


Across Every Universe

by dawningjustice



Category: Star Trek
Genre: AU, F/M, First Officer Kirk AU, Fluff and Angst, Love, M/M, Minor Sexual References, Science Officer Kirk AU, Slow Build, Universal Constant, Unrequitted Love, captain spock au, usscamelot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 85,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1426156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawningjustice/pseuds/dawningjustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk, the adorably awkward science officer aboard the USS Enterprise falls for his Vulcan commander, Captain Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saving the World, One Awkward Step at a Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not the characters, not the universe, nada (the basic idea wasn't even my own). My inspiration for this work is from the wonderful usscamelot's The Universal Constant comic on tumblr.com which is beautiful and amazing and i just couldnt resist adding a contribution in honor of their work. It is altered from the comic, but the basic idea is from it so my thanks to usscamelot, and thank you for reading :) If you're interested in finding me on tumblr, my name's also illogicallyinlove. Hope you enjoy, sorry if the characterization isn't what you hoped. It's hard getting a feel for their personalities when their roles are reversed. 
> 
> Also, I don't know how often I will be updating this, but I will try my absolute hardest for it to be continuous. Also, chapters will vary in length depending on how bad my writer's block decides to be. Please be patient with me. I love you all.
> 
>  
> 
> One last thing: As the story progresses, it puts less focus on their role reversal, so keep that in mind. Even though that is the basis for the universe they're in, later it is centered on their relationship, not the fact that Kirk is a science officer. Sorry if that disappoints some people, but the whole reason for this fic is that they are my otp, no matter what role they are in. So yup, ENJOY!! :)

                The chronometer beeps at me persistently, breaking through my dreams and pulling me into reality. At first, I resist, hugging my pillow tighter and burrowing my face into my blanket. But then I remember: my experiment. “Ah, hell,” I curse, my eyes flying open. I grab my glasses and tumble out of bed. Fumbling around for some clean clothes and my boots, I grab my PADD and rush out the door within two minutes of my awakening. I think I just broke my record. I make my way to lab six, where I know Sulu will already be working. Weighing the consequences of being late or falling asleep, I take a quick detour to the nearest replicator and make myself a cup of coffee, using my access codes to put an extra shot of caffeine in my cup. After the late one I had last night, and my longer shift today, I’m going to need it. I was so enraptured in watching how our exotic plant grew under our newly invented synthetic light that I didn’t even realize when my shift was over. In fact, I continued working until I had three hours until my _next_ shift. Which led to me rushing from my quarters to lab six with a cup of coffee and Sulu laughing at my bleary expression.

                “Don’t tell me you lost track of time again, Jim,” Sulu teases as I walk over to his side. I start setting up my station and give him a sheepish grin. “How much sleep did you get last night? Five hours? Four?”

                “Three,” I correct him, and ignore the exasperated head shake he sends in my direction. I focus on the plant in front of me, and take out the numerous chemicals sitting around me, as well as my PADD so I can record the data.

                “You do realize that Bones is going to kill you, right? If you don’t start taking better care of yourself, he’s not going to give you the opportunity.”

                “What Bones doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I reply. “I’ll tell him I went to bed on time last night.”

                “He’ll see right through you,” Sulu warns, checking the plant to see if any changes occurred overnight. The plant, a pink flower in the shape of a star with a blue stem, gives off a sweet aroma that fills my nose. Luckily, this was one of the few flowers I’m not allergic to, so Bones won’t gripe at me for messing with it. We are attempting to force the flower into photosynthesis, but due to its foreign nature, it isn’t cooperating. The planet the ship is orbiting, Ceti Beta VII, depends on its native plants’ photosynthesis for energy on the planet. Their whole civilization is based off of these tiny little plants. Unfortunately, the explosion of a nearby star caused a sort of radiation that affected the plants’ ability to reproduce or replenish the oxygen in the atmosphere. Most of the population are living off of gas masks, and have no sustainable energy. If we can’t find a cure for this disease, the whole planet will have to abandon their home and relocate to a colony. I’ve taken it as an almost personal mission of mine to see to our research’s success. I haven’t slept properly in days; the lab has become my second bedroom. There have been times I’ve caught myself nodding off at my desk but can’t seem to pull myself away. I don’t know what I’ll do if all of our hard work turns out to be a failure. Today, Sulu and I are planning on trying different compounds on the plant to see if we can reverse the radiation poisoning. So far, nothing has worked. The whole thing seems impossible, but I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.

                “Nah, it’ll be fine,” I say, waving my hand dismissively. “He’ll never even notice.”

                “Jim, you have bags under your eyes darker than a black hole.”

                “Well…he’s not my mother, he can’t tell me when my bedtime is,” I retort defensively.

                Sulu smiles. “No, but he can relieve you of duty. Don’t think he won’t.”

                “He wouldn’t dare,” I narrow my eyes, but Sulu just shakes his head and goes back to work. We lose ourselves in the task, time ticking away and the pressure building, settling on our shoulders. The planet doesn’t have much time left. Sulu walks away for a moment while I get ready to try another mixture, sucking up the chemical into a dropper and preparing to record the results. I vaguely register the lab door opening, but I don’t check to see who has entered. Sulu talks to whoever came in, and I drop a small sample of the liquid into the plants dirt. At first, nothing happens, and I start to sweat from my apprehension. I push my glasses up to the bridge of my nose and sigh in disappointment, but then my tricorder starts whizzing like crazy, showing signs of oxygen being released into the air. It takes a minute for the information to process in my head, but suddenly, I understand. I let out a loud whoop and pump my fist in the air. It worked! Holy shit! Sulu is at my side, taking readings and gaping, but all I can do for a moment is grab his shoulders and shake him in excitement.

                “How did you do it?” Sulu wonders, looking at me with awe.

                “I mixed compounds one and three,” I say happily. “I just had a feeling it would work!”

                “Well done, Lt. Kirk,” a familiar voice says over my shoulder. I turn around to see the captain standing behind us, looking at me with approval.

My face gets hot at the compliment and my knees grow a little weak. “Oh, uh…thank you, sir.”

“Remarkable really,” Sulu pipes up. “I doubt anyone would have thought of trying that combination.” I scratch the back of my head in embarrassment, looking down at my feet, at anywhere but the captain.

“Indeed, I’m sure the people of Ceti Beta VII will be immeasurably gratified to know of your role, Lt.”

“Oh that’s really not necessary, Captain,” I say quickly. “I’m not after any recognition, sir. I just wanted to help.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “It is illogical to reject praise when it is earned.”

“With all due respect sir,” I respond, “I don’t want the discovery to be about me. I want everyone focused on the recovery of the planet.”

“I see,” the captain nods. “Very well, Lt. Mr. Sulu, all labs are to be alerted to this development, and a mass production of the serum started immediately. Lt. Kirk, you are to report to the mess hall for dinner, and then retreat to your quarters for rest. It is evident that you are exhausted and require sleep. That is an order.”

I am surprised to learn that it’s time for the replicators to be serving supper. I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and the news made my stomach growl audibly. “Yes sir,” I acknowledge, and with another nod, the captain exits the lab. I lean against the counter for support while Sulu bustles about to ready production of the serum. I’m not intimidated by the captain; quite the opposite, actually. He intrigues me, fascinates me in a way that is more than scientific. I find myself short of breath whenever he comes near me, and for some stupid reason I lose the ability to form coherent sentences if we happen to talk about anything other than our duties. I know that developing feelings for the captain would be a bad idea, considering he’s my commanding officer, and a Vulcan. But I can’t seem to help myself; everything about him invites me to study him, to crave to know more about the person behind the emotionless mask. I want—I need—to know if the half human part of him feels as much as I do, even if he doesn’t feel anything towards me. I know nothing will ever happen between us, but for right now it’s enough to just be able to watch him and respect him from a distance.

I shake my head to get ahold of my thoughts. After saying goodbye to Sulu, I go over to the communicator on the wall. “Kirk to sickbay.”

“What do you want, Jim? I swear to God, if you’ve injured yourself again…”

“Relax, Bones. I just wanted to know if you’re free to grab a bite.”

“Oh. I guess so. I’ll meet you in the mess.”

“Got it, Kirk out.” I start my walk to the mess when a figure falls into step beside me. I look over to see who it is and stumble when I realize its Captain Spock. I ram my hip into the wall by accident and he reaches out a hand to steady me. I blush, embarrassed by my reaction to his presence, and give him a sheepish grin while straightening my glasses.

“Are you going to the mess hall, Lt?” He asks me, not acknowledging my clumsiness.

“Yes, sir. Those were your orders.”

“Indeed. Would you mind if I accompany you?”

“You…wait you want to eat with me?” I say, looking at him, dumbfounded.

He raises an eyebrow at me. “I believe that is what I just said. Would my presence be unwelcome?”

“What? No! God, no, sorry I just… I mean, of course, Captain. It’d be my pleasure.” I want to smack myself. Jesus, could I get any more awkward? I can feel my face heating up again, and I look at my feet as we walk. He doesn’t say anything as we make our way to the mess. I spot Bones almost immediately when we enter the room filled with eating officers. Bones’ eyebrows shoot into his hairline as he takes in the Captain at my side. He gives me a thinly veiled look that I interpret immediately, and glare at him in response. He is aware of my feelings for the captain, and frequently makes it known to me that he disapproves. Bones considers the captain ‘an emotionless, green-blooded hobgoblin’ that I shouldn’t be wasting my time on. It’s futile trying to convince him otherwise. If the Captain sees or understands Bones’ look, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he just follows me to the line of replicators, gets his salad, and then sits across from Bones and me.

“Captain,” Bones says politely, but I know it’s only for my benefit. He comes close to insubordination sometimes, with the way he addresses the captain, but Spock never reprimands him for it; he just takes it in stride, patiently, as he does with all his other duties. It is another thing I admire about him. Not many people can be on Bones’ bad side and stand to deal with him on a day-to-day basis.

“Doctor,” the captain responds, and takes a bite of his salad.

“How are preparations going for the serum, sir?” I ask him in between bites of my sandwich.

“Very well, in fact. The plant life on the surface is reacting extremely well to your solution, and the rate of oxygen in the atmosphere has already improved by 57.984%.”

“That’s great!” I say enthusiastically. “Do you think reproduction within the species of plant-life will improve as well?”

“I do.”

“Good,” I sigh, relieved. I had been worrying about the inhabitants of Ceti Beta VII for days. It was part of the reason I couldn’t sleep, and why I spent so much time in the labs slaving over the experiments. I didn’t want any planet, anywhere, going through any crisis remotely similar to what happened on Tarsus IV.

My expression must have darkened because the captain gave me a strange look, and Bones put a hand on my knee. I smile at him reassuringly, and start a conversation about quadro-triticale and its effects on tribbles in order to divert their attention from me. Spock contributes to the subject willingly while Bones mutters about me being a nerd, but I know he’ll question me later about my mood shift. While Bones is aware that I was on Tarsus when the tragedy hit, he doesn’t know all of the details. He keeps pressuring me about talking to him about it over a bottle of bourbon, insisting that I am suffering from a case of PTSD, but what he doesn’t understand is that I can’t talk about it.

As we finish eating, the conversation dies down between us. I realize that I don’t want to leave the captain’s company, but I am literally exhausted. I rub at my forehead, a headache coming on from my lack of sleep. I should’ve known better because Bones notices and he starts on me about my sleeping habits. “Dammit, Jim, how long have you been going without sleeping?”

“I slept last night,” I say defensively.

“For how long?”

“Long enough,” I say, evading his question, but he knows it’s a lie. He hauls me out of my seat and towards the door.

“Excuse us, Captain. I’m ordering Kirk on medical leave for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Bones!” I protest. I try to wriggle out of his grip, but his hand on my arm is unrelenting. My glasses fall off from our struggle, but I manage to catch them with my free hand before they shatter on the floor, which I thought was an impressive display of my non-existent reflexes.

“Don’t pander to me, kid. You’re going to sleep, even if I have to knock you out myself. Come on.”

“I find that I agree with the doctor, Lt.” Spock says, standing and following us out of the mess. “Your health is your first priority aboard this ship.”

“Yes, sir, but I’m fine—“

“Jim,” Bones says warningly, and I sigh. We’ve arrived at the entrance to my quarters, and I finally manage to shake Bones off.

“Alright, alright. Goodnight, gentlemen.” I say in defeat, and Bones nods in triumph, walking back to the sickbay.

“Goodnight, Lt.” The captain responds, and retreats back down the hallway as I enter my quarters and collapse on the bed.


	2. A Little Cheating is Good for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim struggles with medical leave as Spock offers him a service he cannot refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again: Don't own anything.
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter, my apologies, although it is due to what I felt was the proper time for the cutoff rather than time constraints. However, I may have extra time to type tonight so the next chapter may be up as soon as then, if not then definitely tomorrow. 
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking with it. Lots of illogical love xoxo

As expected, I am irritated with Bones and his assigned medical leave. I think he must have alerted the whole damn ship, too. As soon as I had woken up—after a good 14 hours sleep, mind you—I’d attempted to go down to the labs to check on the serum after eating a quick breakfast. Every lab I went to locked me out, and the few scientists I’d run into along the way wouldn’t tell me anything, just assured me that everything was under control. Frustrated, I went back to my quarters to do paperwork to find that Sulu had already _done_ all my paperwork—Bones’ orders, no doubt. I was running out of ideas for things to do. I have a thing about sitting idle—it doesn’t work. I’ve never been a person to just lounge around watching movies, unless they're at least a hundred years old. My point is, I have to be doing _something_ , and Bones is making that really hard. Finally, I decided to go down to Engineering to help Scotty, who is just as bad about needing work as I am, and I know he’ll keep my secret.

So it is 1200 hours and I’m stuck in a Jeffries tube holding the main power line, conducting tests to make sure everything’s functioning correctly. Everything seems in working order, so I climb out and go see if Scotty needs me to do something else. I’m not necessarily trained in Engineering, but that was my mother’s department, so I know a few useful tricks, and being a scientist, I’m pretty good with my hands. One of the downsides to being an engineer, however, is the fact that you can’t wear anything on your face, except protective gear, as a precaution. Unfortunately, I’m allergic to Retinox 5, which leads to me wearing old 21st Century eyeglasses. I’m probably the only being in this galaxy that has a pair. I have a knack for engineering, and I probably would have gone down that path had I not needed to see properly; stupid eyeballs.  I’m not really too upset about it though, because I love what I do now, and I can occasionally spend my spare time helping out the Scotsman in Engineering.

“Scotty?” I call, and I hear a string of curses let loose a few feet to my right, behind the warp core. Chuckling, I make my way over to him, weaving around loose parts and beams that Scotty’s got scattered on the floor. When I see him, I almost start laughing. He’s wedged up in a tight space between two columns, a device in his hand. His arms are stretch way above his head towards a loose bolt dangling down towards us. He’s not tall enough to reach it, though, but the man is too stubborn to ask for help. I go over and pull him out of the crevice, and take the device from his hand. “Here, I gotcha.” I reach up and try to tighten the bolt, which is just outside my reach. I stretch a little farther, and bingo, I’ve got the tool in my hand wedged around it and I start to turn to the right. I focus all my concentration on not letting the device slip off of the fastening when a voice startles me out of the zone.

“Lt. Kirk, I was under the impression that the doctor ordered you on temporary leave of medical nature.”

I jump, and knock my head against the hard structure behind me. Luckily, I had just finished screwing in the bolt before I had been startled. I wiggle out of the space and find myself facing the captain. Oh, great. This is just my lucky day. _Keep it together Kirk_ , I tell myself. _Don’t lose your head_. “Uh…” Yep, very eloquent.

“He’s with me, sir,” Scotty butts in, and as Spock turns to look at him, I shake my head. He ignores me, of course. “I couldn’t reach this wee thing up here, and I happened to run into Mr. Kirk, and asked him for some help. He was kind enough to oblige.”

“I see,” the captain says, raising an eyebrow. “That proves to be interesting, Mr. Scott, considering the ship’s computer informed me that Lt. Kirk has been present here since 1200 hours. It is now 1400. I highly doubt it takes two hours to turn a screw.”

Scotty turns red at being caught, and I step into the captain’s line of view. “Thanks Scotty, but it’s okay. Sir, I recognize that I’ve disobeyed direct orders. I’ll take whatever punishment you find necessary to assign.”

“Follow me, then, Mr. Kirk.” Spock turns on his heel and exits Engineering. I clap Scotty on the shoulder on my way out, and he gives me a sympathetic look before turning back to his work. As we walk, I notice that we aren’t headed to my quarters, or even the brig. He seems to be leading me to…the rec center? There isn’t anyone here since most people are on shift at this time, and I look at the captain quizzically. He glances at me but doesn’t explain, just proceeds to change into a workout uniform and gestures for me to do the same. I deliberately concentrate on not looking at him while we change; I have enough problems talking to him face-to-face. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if…I shake my head to clear it. Taking my glasses off makes it easier to ignore his physique. While I don’t have atrocious eyesight, everything is a bit blurry, which hides most of his distracting characteristics. Unfortunately, my eyesight is also part of the reason I’m so bad at sparring. By the time I turn around, we’re both fully dressed and he’s watching me. It makes me slightly uncomfortable, but I try not to squirm under his gaze.

“If I may ask, sir, why have you brought me here?”

He raises an eyebrow and folds his arms behind his back. “It has come to my attention that while you have received standard combat training, it was not one of your strongest points at the Academy. I brought you here to offer my services. You must acquire adequate skills before it is allowed for you to company away teams.”

“Away teams?” I gape, squinting my eyes at him. I’ve never been on one before, but it’s a dream of mine, being able to explore foreign scientific entities.

“Indeed. I have decided to promote you to Lt. Commander after your performance yesterday. I have reviewed your records, and I believe the title will be fitting to your abilities.” He comes close enough that I can see his face perfectly, his expression as neutral as ever.

“Oh, my God. Wow, uh, thank you, sir. You have no idea what this means to me.” I am so excited. Holy shit.

“You have earned it, Commander.” I swear there is an ounce of amusement in his eyes.

Commander. Oh, wow. Best day ever. I can’t even form full sentences I’m so shocked. I mean, not that I haven’t worked my ass off since I got here, but I never thought I’d be promoted. Another thought occurs to me.

“Does this mean I’ll report to the bridge?”

Spock nods. “I have sent your new schedule to your quarters. I believe your first shift starts at 0600.”

Yes! The bridge! My life just got infinitely better. And, I note, I will be seeing much more of the captain. I can’t hold back my excitement. I feel like a ball of energy ready to explode.

“Are you going to accept my offer, Commander?”

“What?” Oh, yeah, the training. “Oh, yeah, of course. Thank you, Captain.”

He inclines his head. We both move into position, circling each other and watching the other warily. He makes the first strike, swinging an arm at my head, which I dodge, but then follows with a sweep of his legs that knocks me right on my ass. He comes over to look down at me. “There is much work to be done,” he comments, and I laugh.

“I think you might be in over your head, sir,” I tell him, but he merely holds out a hand to help me to my feet. I think he holds my hand a second longer than is necessary once I regain my balance, but it might be my overactive imagination seeing what it wants to see. We return to our positions, and he attacks again. And again. And again. Damn, the captain is good. Or maybe I’m just really bad. All I know is by the time we’re finished, I’m exhausted, but I feel good. I look forward to training further with him. As distracting as it is to watch him move so gracefully, I can’t help but admit I could learn a lot from observing him. He knocks me down for the last time and I lay there for a moment, winded. He comes over to help me to my feet for what seems like the thousandth time. As he comes within range, I knock his legs out from under him, hard enough to send him to the floor on his back but not enough to hurt him. I laugh and sit up, watching as he raises himself up his elbows, eyebrow raised.

“I believe that is considered cheating, Mr. Kirk,” he comments, but doesn’t sound the least bit angry.

I give him a small shrug and a smile. “What can I say, I don’t like to lose.”

“Indeed. While there is still much to be desired, you have improved significantly during our first session. You are a fast learner, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, trying not to flush. I get to my feet and help him up for a change. He nods his thanks, and we collect our things, exiting the rec room together. I put on my glasses and my stomach growls loudly as we walk. I place a hand over it as though I can muffle the sound.

Spock looks at me quizzically. “Are you always hungry, Mr. Kirk? I have observed that your stomach makes those noises quite frequently whenever I am in your presence.”

I scratch the back of my head sheepishly. “I sort of forgot to eat lunch; I was too busy with Scotty to pay much attention to the time. I’ll grab something to eat after I shower. It’s not a big deal.”

“If it is agreeable to you,” Spock starts, “you are welcome to join me in my quarters for dinner. Lt. Sulu spoke of your aptitude for chess; I would like to test out your abilities for myself.”

“That’s…kind of you, sir. I haven’t played against anyone even close to my skill since the five-year mission began. It’ll be nice to have a challenge for a change.” As amazed as I am, and thrilled, I can’t help but wonder why the captain has suddenly taken an interest in me. It’s been almost a year since the mission began; I haven’t done anything besides the serum that made me stand out. Not to mention he’s the _captain_ : the most important person aboard this vessel. I was just a replaceable science officer up until a few hours ago. And also, why is he encouraging my disobedience towards Bones? Don’t get me wrong; I’m not complaining. I just can’t stop worrying that I’ll mess up and he won’t think highly of me.

“I have never lost a game,” he informs me as we stand outside my room. I look at him, and with an unusual burst of confidence, I give him a bright smile.

“Get ready to, sir.” And I enter my quarters, congratulating myself on the smooth comment.


	3. There Are Always Possibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chess doesn't quite go the way Spock expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.
> 
> Sorry, another short chapter, and the next one probably will be too. Hope you like it!

I take the quickest shower of my life, although I take care to make sure I don’t stink. Since I’m technically off-duty, I put on a pair of grey sweatpants and a black Starfleet regulation t-shirt. I have to physically force myself not to run to the captain’s quarters. The _captain’s_ quarters, good God. I haven’t even stopped to think about it. I’m suddenly, achingly nervous, and I pace for a moment outside of his door. It surprises me when the door suddenly opens to reveal Spock in a dark brown Vulcan robe. It looks soft, like the material of Mom’s homemade quilt. I want to reach out and feel it, but obviously I don’t. That would be entirely inappropriate, despite the thought being appealing. He looks at me expectantly, and I blush before he steps aside to allow me access to his quarters. It dawns on me that he could probably hear me walking back and forth in the hallway; I had forgotten about his superior hearing. Great, I hadn’t been here five minutes, and I’ve already made a complete fool of myself. Well, I guess it could only go up from here, right?

                There’s a three dimensional chessboard set up on his work table, and an empty table stands next to it. I assume that’s where we’ll be eating, but I don’t make a move to sit until he invites me to with a gesture. “Do you have a preference for your meal?” He asks me, walking over to the replicator built into the bulkhead.

                I sit down and shake my head. “Nah, I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

                He raises an eyebrow. “I was planning on consuming plomeek soup, a traditional Vulcan dish. I do not know if it will be agreeable to your taste buds. It is an acquired taste.”

                “As long as I’m not allergic to it, I’ll eat anything. Seriously, I haven’t come across anything I don’t like.” I assure him. He turns back to the machine to put in his request. I also see him look up my medical records on his PADD to make sure I can actually eat the soup. His comment about the dish has sparked my interest in its taste. I find myself looking forward to learning something new about his culture. Like his robes, I feel like it’s letting me see a part of him that no one else does. It’s ridiculous, of course, because I’m sure he has shared many nights like this with his first officer, Uhura. Jealousy spikes through me at the thought, and I shove it down before it drives me to say something extremely stupid. While I wait, I look around his quarters. The lights are at 75 percent, giving the room a warm glow. It doesn’t seem a very personal space, but I notice the temperature is set a few degrees above mine, and there are small trinkets placed in specific spots around the room. I assume they are for meditating, or keepsakes from Vulcan. It might be illogical to keep an object that serves no purpose, but Spock is half human, after all. The room is also spotlessly clean, a sharp contrast from mine, and smells like a comforting spice that I can’t identify.

                Spock walks over to the table with two bowls of purplish soup in his hands. He places one in front of me and then situates himself across from me gracefully. We’re silent as we take our first bites, mine somewhat tentatively. As soon as the taste hits my tongue, I close my eyes. Jesus, it’s so good, delicious even. I didn’t know the vegetables on Vulcan were so tasty, even replicated. I can’t imagine how delectable the soup would be fresh. I look up to see Spock watching me. I give him a small smile.

                “It is adequate?” He asks, and I detect a hint of apprehension in his tone.

                I nod, and swallow my bite. “It’s amazing,” I tell him truthfully.

                “It is my favorite Vulcan dish,” he says, and then looks away as if I’ll judge him for his statement. I realize that it is another illogical trait of his; I bet picking favorites was looked down upon during his upbringing. I try to ease his discomfort.

                “I can definitely see why. I would eat this every day for the rest of my life. Though I do make a mean stir-fry; you should try it sometime.” I attempt to change the subject, but then I realize it kind of sounds like I’m trying to show off. I stop talking, and take another bite of soup.

 I think Spock understands what I tried to do, and his eyes look grateful. “I would enjoy that.”

“Cool,” I say, relieved, and I realize I was worried he’d reject my offer. “I’m actually a pretty good cook when I put my mind to it.”

“I believe there is little you could not do when you put your mind to it, Commander.”

I blush at the compliment. I have a problem with blushing. I need it to stop. “Thanks. You can call me Jim, by the way, since we’re off duty.”

“Acknowledged, Jim.”

I have to suppress a tiny shiver at the way my name sounds rolling off his lips. I feel a blush coming on again—dammit—and I quickly put another spoonful of soup in my mouth to distract me. I focus as hard as I can on the taste and the sensations dancing across my tongue. It works, thankfully, and we finish the rest of our meal in silence. It’s not uncomfortable. In fact, it’s the most relaxing atmosphere I’ve ever been in. As we both eat the last of the food, I get up to dispose the dishes in the replicator as Spock moves to the chessboard. I go sit across from him.

“Would you prefer black or white?”

“I’ll take black. Go ahead and make the first move,” I reply.

He raises an eyebrow. God that is endearing. “You seem quite confident that the outcome will result in my defeat.”

“If I put my mind to it…” I tease.

“I believe this is one instance where that will not apply.”

“Bring it on, Captain.”

“I believe, since you have reminded me that we are off-duty, it would be appropriate for you to call me Spock.”

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. I’m on a first name basis with the captain. I try to play it off nonchalant. “If you insist.”

He nods in assent. He makes his first move, moving a pawn to the center of the board. The whole game passes without a word, taking almost an hour before I corner his king and declare, “Checkmate!” I give him a smug look, and I think he’s at a loss for words. After a moment of studying the board for futile attempts at an escape, he relents and tips his king.

“I must admit, Jim, I had my doubts before we played. However, I offer my congratulations. I am truly impressed.”

“Well, thank you.” I yawn, stretching my arms over my head. I’m exhausted. Between working with Scotty, and spending most of the day fighting with Spock, and then the mental excursion of our match, I have little incentive to stay awake. That little incentive may or may not be sitting in front of me.

Unfortunately, he also notices my fatigue. “You are tired. You should return to your quarters for rest. Your shift does start early tomorrow.”

I groan playfully. “Now you’re starting to sound like Bones.”

“I would appreciate if you would not insult me,” he protests, but I see a hint of amusement in the way his mouth quirks up the teeniest bit at the corners.

“As you wish, Captain,” I say, standing from my seat. “Thank you for today. I had a really enjoyable time.”

“As did I.”

I smile, his response making my insides warm. “See you tomorrow.”

“Farewell, Jim.” I leave his quarters, practically skipping back to my own. I accidently run into Chekov in my haste, and we both go sprawling onto the floor. We look at each other in astonishment, and then burst into laughter. I get to my feet and help him up, apologizing for my clumsiness.

“You seem to be in a good mood, Jim,” he notes in his heavy Russian accent.

“Dinner was really good,” I tell him. “You know how I like my food.”

“When you actually remember to eat it,” he jibes, and I punch his shoulder. “Ow!”

“Get going, Ensign,” I joke. “In case you weren’t aware, I was promoted to Commander this afternoon.”

He stands at mock attention. “Yes, sir. Right away sir!” He gives me a wink and heads of down the hall, throwing me a final wave over his shoulder. I debate whether I should go down to sickbay and tell Bones about my day, but my desire for sleep wins and I just go back to my room. I lay in bed for a long time, replaying the interactions between me and the captain, analyzing his every reaction, for what, I’m not sure. All I know is that I have a luxuriously wonderful feeling flooding every inch of my body and I love it. And I don’t want it to stop. I can’t wait for tomorrow’s shift, and I ready for bed quickly, knowing the faster I get to sleep, the faster I can wake up.


	4. Dreams Can Be Dangerous Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's dreams haunt him every night, and nothing he does can stop the torment they bring him. No comfort can ease the pain, just as no actions can be taken to change the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for the short chapters, but I just write as it comes to me, and unfortunately it mainly comes in short one-shots, so here you go. The next chapter will be longer, I promise, but it also might take longer to update. But I think three chapters in one night is pretty productive, don't you? ;)
> 
> Emotional pain may follow. You have been warned.  
> xoxo

_As I duck from building to building, I hear a soft cry come from my right. I duck out of instinct, and turn my head to locate the source. A few feet from me stand two children, in the middle of the street with a police baton pushed against the oldest child’s head. The littler of the two boys lets out another whimper, and the soldier snarls at him in response. From what I can hear, I gather that the children had been caught stealing. Looking at them, I am not surprised. Both are seriously underfed and sickly looking. The soldier barks another question, and when the kid shakes his head, the soldier raises the stick for a blow. I can’t help myself; I dart out from my place of protection and place my body in between the man and the boy. The baton strikes my cheekbone, but I don’t wince, and I certainly don’t give him the satisfaction of a noise. My arrival has startled the guard, and while he’s disoriented I grab the wand from his hand and crack it against his skull hard enough to knock him unconscious. He crumples at my feet, and everyone on the street stops to stare at me. My action has caught the attention of four other soldiers, who yell and start in our direction. I usher the kids to the side of the road and command them to hide, tossing them my remaining four apples and a full loaf of bread. The older boy tries to thank me but I’m already gone._

_I’m running, running for my life as the four men chase me through the dirt-covered streets. “Hey, punk, get back here!” They call to me, but I don’t turn to look, let alone slow down. I take a sharp left, diving between two tall buildings as the men run past, not seeing me. I don’t let myself relax, though. I know I’m not safe. It’s impossible to be safe here, with everything going on around me, around us, burning the cities to the ground. I try to stop the shaking as I catch my breath. I stand up and look around, getting ready to bolt again. I start off in the opposite direction of the men in a fast walk, trying not to look suspicious. My calves protest at my brisk pace, but I ignore the pain and push forward, trying to get back to my hut as quickly as possible. I need to get under cover before the men come back. I stick out too much in the open, my bright eye color standing out against the drab background. It makes me nervous, being so exposed, but it couldn’t be helped._

_I manage to make it to the tree line without incident, and looking around I make sure no one’s watching me before I disappear between the trees. I sprint towards my hut just as the rain starts. It’s a small miracle, I think, as the wetness spreads over everything in sight. I take out the half-loaf of bread from my pocket as I think. I hear a rustling outside of my hut, and I snap immediately into defense mode. I grab the large branch I keep stashed in the shelter and keep a close eye on the entrance. Another rustle, and then a small face pushes its way through my makeshift door. I almost take a swing until I realize it’s one of the boys I’d saved earlier. I put the branch down and beckon him inside. He squeezes in, and a few seconds later his brother follows. They sit down in front of me and stare for a long moment, not saying anything. I clear my throat, feeling distinctly uncomfortable despite it being my ‘house’._

_Finally, the bigger kid speaks. “We just wanted to thank you,” he says quietly, his voice hoarse. “We really appreciate it.”_

_“’Course,” I shrug. “I couldn’t just leave you there.”_

_“Still,” the little one pipes up, “no one’s ever helped us before.”_

_“Me either,” I admit. “I guess that’s why I had to help you two.”_

_“I’m Gary,” the oldest says. “This is my little brother, Benjamin.”_

_“Benji,” Benjamin corrects, and it makes me laugh._

_“James,” I say, and stick out my hand for them to shake. “How old are you kids?”_

_“I’m eleven,” Gary responds. “Benji’s six.”_

_“I’m fifteen.” I tell them. “Are you guys all by yourselves?”_

_“Are you?” Gary counters._

_I consider my answer. “Not anymore,” I say with a smile._

_The three of us live together for four months in the woods. We take turns sneaking into town to steal food, but it’s mainly me who takes the trips. I feel responsible for those boys; they’re like kindred spirits, just trying their best to survive. I can hardly believe they’ve made it this long by themselves. Gary told me that his parents were killed in the first stage of the crisis, when Kodos poisoned the food supply and created an artificial famine. It’s ironic, because artificial famines affect people the same way real ones do: they really kill. At least half the population of Tarsus IV has died already from chemical warfare. I’ve heard rumors of Kodos beginning to round up the ‘impure’ for a public execution. I tell the boys to keep off the streets and out of sight more than ever, now. I don’t admit this to them, because for their benefit I have to look strong, but I’m frightened. Hell, I’m scared shitless. I don’t know if I can be what those brothers need me to be. I’m trying my best, but I’m always paranoid that our luck will turn, that one of us will get caught and punished, or worse, killed. I have no idea what I am supposed to do. It was so much easier when I was on my own. But now, I have a family to worry about. I love those boys like they are my actual kin, and I’ll be torn apart inside if something happens to them. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it._

_I make a quick run into town to grab a loaf of bread and some cheese, and a bottle of fresh water. Resources are so scarce, and most of them are being conserved for the ‘higher class of people’, a.k.a. the soldiers, which is why I’m forced to steal all of our food and water supplies. It goes against my moral code, but nothing in this messed-up society could stop me from trying to survive. I do what I must, and I persevere, the two things I’m best at in the world. My trip to Tarsus was supposed to be an enlightening one; it has been, just not in the way I had been expecting. I was here to gain my exploratory credits for the Academy. It was my first year in the elementary science track, and I had been excited for the chance to research and study. Now, I was living each day not knowing if I’d survive until the next. I hurry home, taking my normal paths with a few extra zigzags just in case anyone was trailing me. When I get to our hut, however, my heart stills and my blood runs cold. It’s completely destroyed, burned to the ground, in fact. Oh, my God. How had I not seen or smelled the smoke? I search frantically through the ruins, and thankfully find no human remains. Panic flares within me._

_“Benji? Gary? Boys!” I call. No answer. Oh, God no. Please, just no. Don’t let them be taken; let them be hiding. I run to our designated safe spot, but I can’t find either of them there. I risk one more call before I give up hope. “Guys?!”_

_“Jimmy?” I hear the whisper, and my heart restarts._

_“Ben?” I whip around, trying to find him amongst the trees. Benji comes running out from behind a tree and plasters himself against my legs. I kneel down and wrap my arms around him. “Benji, where’s Gary?” Benji pulls back and looks into my face, his lower lip trembling. I shake him a little. “Benji, where’s Gary?!”_

_“They…they took him,” he whispers, and tears roll down his cheeks. “He told me to hide, so I...I did, but he…he didn’t make it back to his spot in time.” He starts to cry in earnest. “They took him…”_

_“No,” I murmur, and lean my head on his little shoulder. I hear a siren in the distance, and dread pools in my stomach. I put Benji on my back and scale a tree quickly. I place him down on a high branch, covering him in leaves. “Stay here. I will be right back, you hear? I promise.” I plant a quick kiss on the top of his head and climb back down, racing towards the town. When I reach the tree line, my heart plummets. Thousands of people are lined up in a block outside of the town. Kodos and a hundred of his best soldiers stand before them. He’s giving a speech, undoubtedly about continuing the best of mankind, but I’m not listening to any of his words. I’m scanning the crowd, looking for the shock of shaggy brown hair on the head of an eleven year old kid. I find him within seconds, standing in the front line of people, held back by a large man in a brown suit._

_There’s absolutely no way I can get to him without endangering myself, and I can’t leave Benji alone._

_My heart thumps painfully as I realize what’s going to happen, but I refuse to accept it._

_No, this can’t happen, I think._

_Please, no._

_I see the soldiers line up._

_No._

_They raise their weapons._

_Please._

_Gary suddenly looks in my direction, and even from this distance I can see the tears in his eyes._

_Our gazes lock, and he gives me a brave smile._

_The guns fire._

_My world collapses._


	5. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim finally tells Bones about Tarsus IV, and Spock takes him on his first away mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxoxoxoxo

I jerk upright in the bed, gasping for breath as tears leak from the corners of my eyes. A look at the chronometer tells me it’s 0217 hours. Leaning forward, I place my head in my hands and will the shaking to stop. I dry my eyes and stand up out of bed to pace the room, trying to work off some of the built-up adrenaline my body just produced. A split-second decision later finds me jogging through the hallways until I end up at Bones’ quarters. I buzz his door insistently until he finally opens up.

“What in God’s name…Jim?” He asks, squinting like he isn’t sure that I’m real. When I don’t respond, he scrutinizes my face and then moves out of the doorway. “Hell, come on in, kid.” His comment makes me flinch, and he looks at me, alarmed. He goes to take out a bottle of brandy but I shake my head.

“I’ve got to work at 0600.”

“If we’re going to talk about this, you’re going to need a drink,” he argues, and this time I don’t try to stop him as he hands me a glass and pours the amber liquid inside. I take a gulp, grateful for the burn that makes its way down my throat. He sits down on the bed and motions for me to sit next to him, and I do so. We sit in silence for a moment.

“I don’t even know where to start,” I confess.

“The beginning is usually a good place,” he suggests, with no hint of his usual sarcasm.

So that’s what I do. I start at the beginning. I tell him about why I was there, how excited I had been to arrive. I tell him about the first stage of the crisis, how lucky I was to survive. I tell Bones how lonely I was, and how hopeless I had started to become. How I had almost just ended it a few times myself rather than wait for a painful death at the hands of someone else. I tell him about the two boys I encountered by chance one day on the streets. I tell him about how I risked my life on an impulse to save them. I recount how they followed me home, how we became a family.

I tell him how I watched, helpless, as Gary was murdered in front of me, along with thousands of other innocent people. I tell him how the image haunts my nights even ten years later.

“I think I fainted, after,” I tell Bones. His face had gradually grown darker throughout my tale, and he looked downright pale after my last piece of information. “I don’t really remember what happened. I just remember walking back to Benji in a daze. I remember climbing the tree and pulling the boy to my chest and sobbing. And I remember falling asleep. The next day we got up and moved farther into the trees. We built another hut, and a small treehouse high in the trees that couldn’t be seen. We went another six months without Gary. It was hard, Bones. I didn’t think we would make it. Benji…” My voice breaks. “Benji…didn’t. I accidently brought home some bread. I didn’t know the supply had been tampered with. I gave him the whole loaf, thinking it would help…” I choke, pinching the bridge of my nose to stop the tears. “He died within minutes. I was right there with him. I told him not to be afraid. I told him it was going to be okay. I held his hand, and watched the light leave his eyes. And it was my fault. It _is_ my fault. I don’t know how I can ever forgive myself for that.”

Bones doesn’t say anything. I don’t know if he _can_ say anything. Even if he could, it wouldn’t help. I mean, what is there to say, really? Nothing will make it better.

“I was in a really bad spot. I’d seen some really awful things—awful doesn’t even begin to cover it. When the Earth rescue teams came to retrieve the survivors, I almost didn’t want to go with them. My mom was in hysterics, of course, and she’s probably the only reason I ended up going back. They tried to put me through counseling, but I refused to say anything about what had happened. She was worried, I knew, but I wouldn’t talk about it. I threw myself into my school work. I got a job busting tables at Lew’s bar. I didn’t focus on anything other than the tasks at hand. I exhausted myself to the point that I wouldn’t dream. I…found some really bad solutions to take the edge off of the pain. But when I finally graduated, I pulled myself together. I ran away to a starship. And here I am. That’s the whole story.”

Bones reaches out and pulls me into a fierce hug. I return the embrace, clutching him tightly like a lifeline. We stay like that for a long time until I pull back to look at him. His eyes are sparkling with unshed tears, and he clasps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Jim, I am so sorry. No wonder you’ve avoided talking about it for so long. I had no idea it was so bad.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, you’re welcome to spend the rest of the night here, if it’ll help.”

“Oh, there’s no way in hell I’m going back to sleep,” I say, and stand. “But you go ahead. I’m probably just going to go to the gym until my shift starts.” I walk over to the door. “Thanks for listening, Bones. Sorry I woke you.” I bolt before he can protest, making my way to the rec room as quickly as I can. When I get there, I peel off my shirt and head straight to the bench press. Where my combat skills are lacking, I make up for it in my strength, speed, and stamina. I can press 165 pounds, despite being only 5’10”. I can run for miles before I get winded, and I was the star member on Starfleet’s track team. Not to be conceited, but my biceps are pretty impressive, and I have a defined six pack and pectoral muscles. I take great pride in my body, but the majority of the reason for my fitness is so that I’m prepared if I ever need it in a perilous situation, like Tarsus.

I spend the next hour lifting weights and sprinting on the treadmill, then shower and head for my quarters. Once there, I change into my science blues, now adorning my Lieutenant Commander status on the cuffs. I make it to the bridge at 0559, and Captain Spock is already sitting in the command chair. I nod at him as I walk to my station, and begin acquainting myself with the equipment and the scanners. I am familiar with the technology from my training at the Academy, but I want to be prepared for any situation. I feel a presence looming over my shoulder and look up to see Spock staring down at me, looking almost-concerned.

“Commander Kirk, are you feeling well?” He inquires quietly enough for only my ears.

“Yes, sir. I feel fine, thank you.”

“Are you certain?” He peers at my face carefully. “It seems as though you did not receive adequate rest, despite retiring at a decent time last night.”

“Just didn’t sleep well,” I say lightly, trying to brush off his inspections. “It’s early. I’m sure I’ll look better later in the day.”

The captain looks like he doesn’t believe me, but doesn’t pursue the topic. He merely nods and returns to his chair. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.

Work is slow the next couple of hours, until we begin orbiting the planet classified as FX-1907. I report all scans shown on my equipment. The captain stands from his chair and motions to two officers on the bridge to accompany him to the planet’s surface. “Lt. Sulu and Mr. Jackson will accompany me on the landing party. Lt. Uhura, you have the conn.” He and the two officers walk over to the turbo-lift. “Commander Kirk, with me also.” My eyebrows shoot into my hairline but I don’t argue, just rush to grab my tricorder and meet them at the lift. We move towards the transporter room, my nerves jostling around inside me. My first away mission! And on my first day of bridge duty too! I’m excited, but also afraid that I’ll do something wrong, or get someone hurt. I push down my anxiety and focus on the task at hand. We all step onto the transporter pad and Scotty flips the switch, scrambling our molecules and beaming us down to FX-1907.

We rematerialize in dense undergrowth. We all start exploring the surrounding area, recording data and researching the unknown foliage. I watch as Spock walks over to inspect a particularly pretty flower. It’s large, with round purple petals sprouting out in every direction. He leans down to sniff it, and the way the light reflects off of his hair dazes me for a moment before a movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I snap my head to the side and see another flower opening its petals, revealing two deadly spikes at its center. A shock runs through me as I realize it’s aiming at the captain. I give a loud shout and dive in his direction, catching him around the middle and pulling us both to the ground as the spike whizzes past us. We land in a heap on the ground as the rest of the crew circle around us. I push off him immediately, and Spock spots the dart lying a few feet from us. He reaches out and plucks it cautiously off the ground, inspecting it closely.

“I want the entire party beamed back aboard the ship this instant,” he orders. “No one is to come back down until an analysis is run on this specimen. If we do come back, it will only be in the protection of safety gear. Am I clear?”

“Affirmative,” we all chorus, and he coms Scotty to bring us back aboard the ship. When we reform, I offer to take the specimen to the lab and conduct the test myself. Spock gives his consent. “Thank you, Commander,” he says, and reports back to the bridge. I go to lab seven, since it’s closest to the transporter room, and put it under the high-power microscope. I’m only looking at it for a moment when a sharp pain in my side makes me gasp. I look down and see a tiny hole in my uniform. I lift up the material and see one of the two spikes protruding from just below my ribcage. It must have struck me as I tried to protect the captain. I start to get dizzy and my vision swims, but I can’t make it to the communicator attached to the wall. I fall to my knees and my vision blacks out as I lose consciousness.

 

I wake up in sickbay, unsurprisingly, with Bones hovering over me. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he says gruffly, but I can see the relief bright as day on his face. He checks my vitals and tells me I’m recovering well. “You had me worried for a good while there, kid,” he says, and I can see the lines of exhaustion on his face.

I clear my throat to speak. “How long have I been out?” I ask him.

“Three days,” he says, and goes back to scanning my body.

“Three days?!” I repeat, alarmed beyond comprehension. How had that happened?

“Yeah. Captain Spock found you passed out in the lab and carried you immediately here. I got the spike out without damaging anything—it was buried pretty deep in your side—but you were allergic to the damn thing, and it took me a day and a half just to get your temperature to stabilize enough to administer an anti-toxin hypo. I’m keeping you here overnight, but you should be able to return to work after that. Light duty only, Jim, I mean it. I’ll be monitoring you.” He walks out of the room, and his presence is replaced by the captain’s, his arms folded behind his back.

“You saved my life, Jim,” the captain says, looking down at me on the bed.

“No biggie,” I joke. His eyebrows furrow.

“You do not understand. An analysis was conducted while you were unconscious, and it was discovered that had the flower’s spike struck me, I would have died almost instantaneously. It contains an almost untraceable poison that is extremely deadly to Vulcans.”

“Apparently pretty deadly to me too,” I say, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, tremendously unfortunate in your case, as it is harmless to other humans, except for the impalement of the spike.”

“Yeah, that actually didn’t hurt until I noticed it was there,” I tell him.

“It was probably due to the adrenaline pumping through your system after the incident, masking the pain of the injury.”

“Definitely, because after that it stung pretty badly.”

“Indeed.”

I smile at his familiar response. He produces a chessboard from behind him and gives me a questioning look. I nod, and he sets up the board on the small bedside table standing next to my bio-bed. We play a couple games of chess until I nod off to sleep. When I wake up hours later, the board is reset, but Spock is nowhere in sight.


	6. Give and You Shall Receive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim receives a gift from an unknown source

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the feedback I'm getting. It just makes my day when you guys comment. I hope you guys enjoy! Lots of love <3  
> xoxo

I return to my room after being released from sickbay to find a package wrapped in brown paper lying in the center of my bed. I’ve always loved gifts, so I waste no time in tearing it open. As the wrapping falls away, a book is revealed. It looks ancient, and I am immediately touched. I haven’t told anyone besides Bones that I collect antique classical books; it’s a hobby of mine I’ve had ever since I was a kid. I don’t have this volume, either, and the title reads A Tale of Two Cities. I can’t help but wonder who acquired this information about me, and who cared enough to search for such a rare piece of work. I have a feeling it wasn't Bones because he isn't prone to random displays of affection in our friendship. I flip open the front cover and turn the first couple pages until _Book the First_ stares up at me. Flopping on the bed, I began to read the first passage. _It was the best of times; it was the worst of times…_ I haven’t gotten past the first page when my door chimes. “Come in,” I call, and look up to see Spock stepping in to the room.

He nods his head at the book in my hands. “Do you find it agreeable?”

My mouth drops open and I stare at him for a moment before responding. “ _You_ got me this?”

He nods again. “Dr. McCoy gave me sound advice when I approached him on the subject.”

“You…talked to Bones about a present for me. Why?” I can’t fathom why he would go through the effort.

“Consider it…a token of my gratitude for saving my life.”

“A thank you would have sufficed.”

His eyebrows pitch down slightly at my response. “You do not enjoy it?”

“No!” I exclaim. “No, that’s not it. I love it, really. I just meant that you didn’t need to bother yourself with it.”

“It was no bother,” he says.

“Oh.” We lapse into a semi-awkward silence.

“Why do you have a fascination with antiques,” he inquires.

I shrug a shoulder and motion for him to sit down. He obliges, and I reply, “I don’t know. I guess they remind me of the past, and I think it’s important for us all to remember what came before us.”

“Logical,” he agrees.

“I like old movies, too. Have you ever seen one?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I’m even aware of what I’m saying. Oh, what the hell. He’d given me a gift, and came to see how I like it. I feel like we’re at the movie-watching stage in our relationship—not that we’re in one. When he shakes his head, I jump off the bed. “You’re in luck! I just happen to have one of my favorites downloaded to the ship’s computer. If you’re not busy, I could show it to you.” I suggest, and then add on shyly, “you know, if you want.”

“I would enjoy the experience very much, Jim. Thank you for your offer.”

“So you’re free right now?”

“Indeed.”

“Great,” I say enthusiastically. I liked that Spock had been spending a portion of his free time with me lately. I love the sparks of energy that seem to hum beneath my skin whenever we’re in the same room. I start up the movie and have the computer project it on the wall across from the couch in my quarters, where Spock is sitting. I go to sit next to him, making sure to leave plenty of room between us, so that we don’t accidently touch if I fidget. I know casual touching is taboo for Vulcans, and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

He turns to look at me as the music starts with an eyebrow raised. “May I query as to what we are watching?”

“It’s an old Pixar movie called Wall-E,” I tell him. “Don’t worry; I’m positive you’ll like it.”

We fall silent as the introduction starts. He seems fascinated by the film, and he stares intently at the screen the whole time. I usually do, too, but right now I can’t seem to divert my attention from him. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, suppressing a smile when he reacts minutely to certain parts. When Wall-E and Eve hold hands for the first time, he furrows his eyebrows at the concept of robots falling in love. He looks so cute like that, I have to fight down the urge to reach out and take his hand in mine. It’s difficult; my hand actually twitches in his direction, but thankfully he doesn’t notice. At the end of the movie, I get up and power down the computer. “So, what’d you think?”

“There were many aspects that seemed unlikely and illogical, but despite those factors, I find that I quite enjoyed it. It was very entertaining.”

I beam. “I knew you’d like it.”

“However, the part that I found most unrealistic was the relationship between the robots.”

I roll my eyes. “Everyone deserves to find love, Spock.”

“They are not living beings,” he argues. “It is not logically for them to desire a romantic relationship.”

“How many times have we run into species that technically aren’t categorized as ‘life’? They still express emotions and desires.” I raise my eyebrows at him. He looks surprised that he hadn’t thought of it himself.

“I…did not consider that.”

“Besides, it’s a movie. It’s not supposed to be logical.”

“I see.” He stands. “I regret to say that I must depart. I have paperwork to attend to in my quarters. Thank you for the movie, Jim.”

My heart sinks at the fact that he’s leaving, but I incline my head and give him a small smile. “Anytime.” And I do mean any time. Seriously, come back whenever you want. Or just don’t leave. I don’t mind.

“Goodbye,” he says to me, and exits my quarters. I take a deep breath and go over to the replicator to make a cup of coffee, and then retire to my bed to read my new book. I read until I realize I should probably go to bed. Due to Bones ordering me on light duty, my shift doesn’t start until 1000 hours the next day, but I know I’ll probably need the extra sleep. Putting my glasses on the table and ordering the lights off, I take the prescribed sleep medication he gave me as well, and hope as I fall asleep that I’ll escape my dreams.

 

When I wake up in the morning and realize that I didn’t have any episodes last night, I want to leap and cheer for joy. It was the best night’s sleep I’d had in a while, and I felt confident that I’d have a ton of energy today. I almost skip my normal cup of coffee, but I miss the taste and decide to drink one anyways. The chronometer reads 0927, which leaves me just enough time for a shower before I head up to the bridge for my shift. We weren’t due to orbit another planet for at least a week, but I know we’ll be stopping at the nearest Starbase for supplies. I am looking forward to it; I want to get Spock something to repay him for the novel, but I don’t have anything in my possession that I think he’d like. I hope I can find something on the Starbase that will suit him perfectly.

The rest of the day passes smoothly. Nothing exciting happens during my shift, and we dock at the base just as I get off duty. Spock still has to man the bridge, so I beam down to the planet to peruse the shops available for tourists and officers. I find a couple of different scented candles I think he’d like for meditation, but it doesn’t seem like enough. I finally stumble upon an old earth logic puzzle, one of the ones where you have to try and disconnect the intertwining loops on a chain. I decide that it would be perfect for him, even though I know he’ll solve it in like three seconds flat. There isn’t anything else worth getting, so I check out and pay with my credits. I buy some spiced wine as well, and some wrapping to put the gifts in. I pick out a bright red because I like the color, and I hope it reminds him of Vulcan.

I hurry back to my quarters to ensure that he doesn’t see my load. Once it’s wrapped and a small note is attached, I go leave it outside of his quarters, hoping he’ll get it soon. I’m tired after my shift, and wandering around the base, so I decide a shower would be good in order to relax. After I’m clean and dressed in my sleepwear, I snuggle up in my blankets and read a chapter of my book before dozing off to sleep. Again, due to Bones’ medication, the night passes by dreamlessly, and I wake up in the morning feeling refreshed. I have some time to kill before my last light duty shift, so I eat breakfast, finish up paperwork and read another couple chapters in my book. When there’s about ten minutes before my shift, I lock my room and head towards the turbo-lift. When I get to the bridge, Spock isn’t there, which makes me kind of disappointed since I had been hoping to ask him about the package. I say good morning to Lt. Uhura as I pass her station, and she gives me a warm smile in response. I chat with Chekov and Sulu for a few moments until my shift officially starts and I make my way over to my station. There isn’t much for me to do besides monitor the equipment and finish a few reports left. I focus on the reports, trying to get them done as soon as possible. A light touch ghosts across my shoulder and I look up, startled.

Spock is standing behind me, and he has a soft look in his eyes. “Commander,” he greets me.

“Captain,” I acknowledge. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

“I received an exceptionally thoughtful package last night outside my quarters. I would like to know if you were its benefactor.”

“That depends,” I say with a grin. “Did you like it?”

“Indeed, though I fail to recognize how my views on the gift would determine its giver.”

“Never mind, but yes, I got it for you.”

“May I ask why?”

“Just cause,” I shrug. I don’t tell him it’s because of the book, because he would just tell me it is illogical since the book was supposed to express his thanks. So I was pretty much thanking him for his thanks. Whatever. “I just saw it in the shop and thought of you.”

He seems speechless for a moment, like no one had ever given him anything for no reason before. Maybe no one had. The thought makes me sad, because he’s a great guy. He deserves to have someone that cares enough about him to remind him of how great he is. “…You have my gratitude.”

“Don’t worry about it, Spock. Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I’m glad you liked it.”

He gives a small nod and walks back to his chair. I see Nyota looking at us from her station, and when I meet her gaze she gives me a knowing smile and a wink. I flush, and turn hastily back to my reports. The rest of the day is uneventful, and at the end of my shift Spock follows me to the turbo-lift. His must have ended as well. “Would you like to accompany me for dinner?” He asks uncertainly, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a self-conscious Vulcan before. Half-Vulcan. You know what I mean.

“Sure,” I reply, and he relaxes slightly.

We go to his quarters, and this time he makes a bowl of Earth baked potato soup. He brings out the spiced wine I bought as well, and we have a couple glasses over dinner and a few rounds of chess, which I win the majority of. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was getting frustrated with my illogical strategies for playing. He can never anticipate my next move, and I use that to my advantage. We play until it gets pretty late, and I’m tipsy but not drunk. I thank him for the evening and then retire to my room, and I fall asleep with a wide smile on my face.


	7. Cue Carol Marcus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's best friend besides Bones' is Carol Marcus, another scientist who shares his love of smart guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Carol. And I love to imagine her and Christine getting together and gushing about Dr. McCoy ;) who wouldn't, am I right?
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking around. This chapter will be shorter, and it focuses more on Carol and Jim's friendship, along with a little Marcus/McCoy pairing and Jim playing matchmaker.

The next evening after my shift—my first full one since the incident on FX-1907—Carol stops by my quarters for a late night snack/drink/talking-about-our-feelings session. This girl can talk, let me tell you. And she always refers to me as her “BGF” which stands for “Best Gay Friend” and makes me want to pull my hair out. I swear to God she does it just because it annoys me, but I don’t complain because I know it will just make it worse. She likes to talk about her latest male interests with me because 1. They’re straight and I won’t try to sleep with them like some of her friends and 2. I actually give her good advice since I can provide a guy’s perspective. Usually when she chooses guys, it’s for their brains, not their brawn. It’s one of the things I love most about Carol: she sees people for who they really are, and she judges them accordingly.

“And I mean, he’s just so sweet,” she lilts, looking at me imploringly.

“God, this is so weird.”

“Please, Jim, please?” She pleads. “I will owe you one for forever.”

“I don’t think that counts as just ‘one’, then, Care.”

“Please?”

“Of course,” I relent. She’s begging me to hook her up with Bones. _Bones_ , of all people. Not that I don’t see the attractive qualities about my friend, it’s just that I can’t imagine Bones being anything besides grumpy, let alone _sweet_. “I’ll stop by the sickbay tomorrow and see what I can do.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“I love you,” she sings, swinging an arm around my shoulders.

“Care, I think you’re a little drunk. I hope you have tomorrow off.” I take her glass away from her and set it on the table in front of us.

“You’re such a buzzkill,” she pouts. “I knew I should’ve hung out with Chris, or Nyota.”

“They can’t help you,” I remind her. “And I think Chris is after Bones as well.”

“Oh hell no,” she says abruptly, and tries to stand, but to do what, I’m not sure. I pull her back down next to me.

“You haven’t told her that you’re interested in him yet.” I say reasonably. “Not to mention she works with him every single day.”

“You’re right. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” She sighs, and leans her head on my shoulder. “What’s going on with you, Jim? You’ve been doing okay?”

Carol and Bones are the only ones who know about my nightmares. Carol doesn’t know their extent or their cause, but she knows I’m plagued by them. When we first became friends at the Academy, she used to sleep next to me when Bones was gone because another person’s presence usually calms me down. She doesn't pry, and I’ll be forever grateful for that. “Yeah, I’ve been doing better.”

“I don’t understand why you just now decided to tell Leonard. He could have helped you ages ago.”

“I know, but it’s kind of a pride thing. I don’t like needing anybody else to take care of me.”

“Oh, Jim,” she sighs. “It’s not taking care of you; it’s helping you. Those are two different things. And everybody needs somebody every now and again. You can’t be alone the rest of your life.”

“I’m not alone. I’ve got you and Bones.”

“And you always will,” she reassures me. “But someday you’re going to realize it’s not going to be enough.”

“I’ve met someone,” I say defensively, although I don’t know if that’s quite true yet. I say it because I don’t want her to worry about me, but I know the captain will never reciprocate my feelings, and he’ll never care for me in the way that Carol is suggesting I need. But I desperately need to talk about him with someone who won’t get weirded-out the way Bones would if I tried to approach the subject with him.

“The captain?” She asks, and I scowl.

“How do you know that? You’ve never even seen me with him!”

“Nope, but Nyota does. She told me all about your exchanges with him on the bridge. She says you two are adorable.”

“First off, there is no ‘us two’, and second, does Uhura tell you everything about my life?” There have been so many instances where I would go to tell Carol something and she’d already heard it from Nyota.

“Just the boys you talk to.”

“She hasn’t told anyone else, has she?”

Carol snorts. “What are we, in eighth grade? We’re twenty-five, Jim. I think Nyota knows what information is for the gossip mill and what is personal.”

“I know, I just…”

“It’s okay,” she assures me. “What’s he like? Off duty, I mean.”

“He’s spectacular, Carol, truly. He makes me feel so nervous and so relaxed at the same time, it makes my stomach churn. He’s intelligent, obviously, and even though he’s reserved, he’s not…cold. His eyes show what he’s feeling a lot of the time. He fascinates me.” I tell her about everything that’s happened in the last couple of days, recounting every time I’ve been with him. “It’s crazy how comfortable I feel around him now, after just a short time. I never used to be able to form full sentences around him; now, I’m almost downright confident. Sometimes. I’m still working on it.”

“Aw, dear, you’re in deep,” she smiles. “That is so romantic, Jim. When are you going to tell him how you feel?”

“Never,” I say quickly. “He’s my captain; it wouldn’t be appropriate. Not only that, but I don’t even know if he’s into guys. Even if he was, why would he go for a guy like me? I’m…boring.”

“Honey, he went to ask Bones—Bones, who he barely gets along with—to ask about what kind of present he should get you. If that isn’t a sign, then I don’t know what is.”

Hope flares up in my chest. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” she says confidently.

“I don’t want to rush into anything,” I tell her. “I haven’t had a serious relationship since…well, ever. I’m committed to my work; I don’t have time to be committed to anything else.”

She taps her lips for a moment, thinking. “Well, if you think about it, you could consider him part of your job. He is your captain, as you pointed out.”

“Exactly why I shouldn’t get involved,” I say firmly. “Starfleet wouldn’t even allow it.”

“Starship captains aren’t allowed to be happy?” She counters.

“They are, but not with members of their crew!”

“Not with younger members of their crew,” she corrects me. “Jim, those regulations are only in place to prevent high-ranking officers from forcing their subordinates into something they don’t want to do. You’re a Commander; those rules don’t apply to you.”

“I don’t know, Carol. I think I’m just going to take it slow and see what happens.”

“If you say so. God, my head is pounding.” She puts a hand to her forehead and leans into me for support.

I put an arm around her comfortingly. “Do you want me to escort you back to your room, or do you want to crash here tonight?”

“Would you mind if I just stayed with you?” She asks.

I shake my head. “Of course not, Care. You know that.”

She crawls onto the bed and under my covers, leaving enough room for me to lie down as well. “Thanks, Jim, you’re the best.”

“I know,” I grin, and place my glasses on the desk. “Lights off,” I command, and then climb in beside her. She curls into a ball with her back to me and I do the same.

“You better make good on your promise,” she mutters as she drifts off. I lie awake for a while, listening to her steady breathing turn to snoring. I laugh quietly and mull over our conversation. Was there any chance Spock could feel it too? My breath hitches at the thought. I put the idea out of my mind and let darkness pull me under with its sweet lullaby.


	8. As Time Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance, but this is a filler chapter. It will be very brief, and nothing in detail besides a few exchanges here and there. It's mainly just for background info on what goes on between the last chapter and the next big thing coming up. So sorry.

 

The next day, I climb out of bed carefully so as to not wake the still-snoring Carol. I take a quick shower and throw on my uniform, and then eat a quick breakfast. I have about half an hour before my shift on the bridge starts and I want to stop by sickbay before so I can talk to Bones about Carol. I’m sure he’ll take an interest; he’s been eyeballing her ever since she and I became close. Not to mention she’s gorgeous, funny, and scary intelligent. She might even be successful in bringing old McCoy out of his shell. I enter the sickbay to find him still drinking his first cup of coffee and looking through a few records. He looks up as I approach him.

“Hey.” I greet him, and he just grunts in response. His hair’s sticking up everywhere, and he’s still got sand in the corners of his eyes. He’s never very pretty in the mornings; that much I learned at the Academy, when he was my roommate. “So, I’m pretty much the best wing man a guy could have. I mean, seriously, what would you do without me?”

“What are you talking about,” he asks.

“I found you a date for Friday night,” I told him. “You’re cooking her a good, home-style Georgia meal complete with a glass of Southern champagne.”

“And who am I doing this all for?” he asks tiredly, rubbing his forehead.

“Carol,” I tell him smugly.

He sits up straight, almost dumping his cup of coffee on himself. “Marcus?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, shit! Why didn’t you say so?”

“I like to watch you suffer,” I tell him truthfully. “She’s passed out in my quarters right now—don’t give me that look, you know I don’t swing that way. Anyways, she’s sleeping, so if you stop by around 1200 hours, she’ll probably be waking up and you can ask her then. And for God’s sake, look decent. Don’t wear your uniform.”

“Why does it matter if I’m just asking her out?” He demands. “The date’s not until Friday.”

“Just do it,” I advise him. “She’ll respect you more if she thinks you’re clean cut.”

“I’m a doctor, not a damn sanitation expert.”

Shaking my head and laughing, I make my way from the sickbay to the bridge.

 

The next couple of days pass by in sort of a blur. We dock at a planet and send down a landing party, which I wasn’t a part of. Neither was the captain, though, so I got to spend more time in his presence. We have nice conversations here and there on the bridge, and he invites me over almost every night for a shared dinner and a few rounds of chess. He still hasn’t figured out how to beat me more than once every couple of games, and it amuses me to no end. I love the way his eyebrows crinkle when he realizes I’ve ensnared his king once again.

Friday night rolls around, and I stop by after my shift to help Bones prepare for his date. I make most of the food, because he can’t cook worth a shit, and I force him to put on nice pants and a nice shirt, which he grumbles about being too tight. When I tighten his tie, he all but cries about how ‘it’s constricting his airways’. I tell him to climb a bridge and get over it; if he wants to do big boy activities, he has to dress like one. He swats at me for my sarcastic comments, but I know he appreciates my help. He took his divorce pretty hard, and he hasn’t been able to find a good girl to live up to his expectations. I hope for his sake that Carol is the one. It’ll be good for them both; she’ll help him liven up a bit, and he’ll keep her grounded. It was like a match made in paradise. Hopefully.

The next day I hear how the date went from both sides, and both had nothing but positive things to say about the other. Carol keeps gushing about how much of a gentleman he was, and how great of a cook he is (which is a lie, since I made the food, but she doesn’t know that, so whatever). He told me multiple times about how funny she is, and that he hasn’t laughed that hard in years. They both express excitement for their next date, in which they were accompanying Scotty and Uhura to the rec room for a movie and some drinks. I’m happy for them both, I really am, but I can’t help but feel lonely as I listen to how happy they were together. I wish I had someone to share something like that with.

The next couple months pass by quickly. I accompany a couple more landing parties, and I get injured in almost every one of them. Bones keeps yelling at me to be more careful, but danger seems attracted to me like a magnet. At one point, I get life-threateningly injured—a heavy blow to the head from a large Andorian, to be precise—and Bones has to conduct a major surgery to get rid of the fluid floating around my brain. I’m told that Spock sat vigil with me all night, but I don’t know if Bones just told me that to make me feel better.

I’m not the only one who attracts danger. Most of the injuries I sustain are from protecting the captain. It seems as though everything sees him as a target; it doesn’t help that he’s the only Vulcan captain in Starfleet, which causes a lot of bigotry and controversy on his behalf. Everywhere we go, it seems like someone is trying to kill him. I’ve just taken it upon myself to make it my responsibility to make sure he doesn’t die. During one scouting mission, Spock is speared in the side by one of the natives, and I’m not quick enough to prevent it from happening. It had hit him right above the heart, and punctured a lung. He goes into immediate, emergency surgery, and I wait in the sickbay all night until he regains consciousness, just to see for myself that he’s okay.

A lot of the missions we go on result in serious injuries, and Bones is certainly never bored. Spock and I both end up in sickbay more than either of us like, but it’s part of the job. Spock and I continue to grow closer, and I think our relationship has bloomed into full on friendship. We spend most of our free time in each other’s company, either playing chess or sparing in the gym. I’ve made so much progress in combat training, it’s astounding. I’m one of the best fighters on the ship now.

In the event that Spock is busy, I spend my time reading or hanging out with Bones and Carol. They are pretty damn cute together, I must admit. They spend a lot of time with Scotty and Uhura. Sometimes I meet up with Sulu and Chekov in the rec room for a few drinks or a game of poker. Life passes by pretty normally. My feelings for the captain continue to grow more and more each day. I try to hide them from him, and I’m hoping that his lack of experience with people will make it easier to hide how I feel. He’s slowly becoming my best friend, and I don’t want to put that in jeopardy by declaring my feelings and not have them be reciprocated. I decide that I’ll just go where it takes me. No matter what happens, I know that I can’t lose the captain, and I will do whatever it takes to ensure that doesn’t happen.


	9. Mind Over Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shore leave on Iowa  
> Warning: super fluff ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long, and the next couple will probably be also.  
> Love all your comments, and thanks so much for the support. I hope you like this chapter!

One morning before my shift starts, I hear my door chime, signaling a visitor. I allow whoever it is access and I’m not entirely surprised to see Spock standing in my doorway. “Spock!” I grin widely. “What can I do for you?” I had been in the process of tidying up my room, because there is laundry everywhere and PADDs scattered across multiple surfaces.

“I have come to talk about duty, Jim,” he says, stepping into the room.

“Alright,” I say cautiously. “What’s this about?”

“Lt. Uhura has resigned as my First Officer.”

“What?” I exclaim, sitting down on the couch. “Why?”

“She has always expressed a desire for her position to be temporary. She wishes to have more leisure time in order to pursue her study of foreign languages. Though she has extensive knowledge in xenolinguistics, she claims she still has much to learn.” He folds his hands behind his back and looks down at me. “I find myself searching for an adequate replacement.”

“That’ll be hard,” I tell him, leaning back against the cushions. “She’s an outstanding officer.”

“Indeed, but I believe I have already located the crewman fit to take over her duties.”

“Really? Is it Sulu?” I ask curiously. “He’d be thrilled. Despite his love for botany, I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that he wants to be a captain one day. This would be good for him.”

“No doubt Mr. Sulu would be a sufficient officer for the job, but he was not to whom I was referring.”

            “No? Then who?” I’m puzzled. I don’t know anyone better suited for the job than Sulu. I see Spock staring down at me, giving me an obvious look. “Me?” I’m dumbfounded. Me, as First Officer? As Spock’s First? There can be so many things that go wrong with us as a command team. For one, my feelings for him might get in the way of duty. If I had to choose between him and another person, could I make the right choice? Certainly not. I’d be emotionally compromised. Not only that, but Spock and I have completely different opinions when it comes to running a starship. Not that I’m criticizing him, because he’s the best captain in the fleet, but we often get into debates about how something should be done. I don’t think disharmony would be what the ship needs. And I’m a science officer! I’m not meant for the command track. Could I handle the responsibility? I’m not sure.

            “I believe you are the best candidate.” Spock says, raising an eyebrow at my prolonged silence.

            “Spock, are you sure? I don’t know if this is a good idea.” I tell him about my concerns, leaving out my feelings of course.

            “Despite your worries, I still believe this is the right choice. I…would be grateful to have you by my side.” He admits. My heart thumps painfully at his words, and I want more than anything to say yes, but I just don’t know if I can handle it.

            “I don’t know…can I think it over?”

            “Of course,” he nods.

            I remember that today is the last day of duty before our ship-wide shore leave, which happens to be on Earth. “I’ll let you know by the end of shore leave. Speaking of which, what are you doing?”

            “I planned on staying aboard the ship to oversee maintenance.”

            “What?! You can’t stay aboard for shore leave!” I give him an incredulous look.

            “As I have no family or friends inhabiting this planet, it is the most logical option.”

            “You can come with me,” I suggest hopefully. “Both my parents are off planet, so I’d be staying at my farmhouse by myself anyways. Bones’ is taking Carol home to meet his daughter and his parents. So you’re not the only one who’d be alone if you don’t beam down. Come on!” I persist, standing up and placing a hand on his arm. Lately, I’ve noticed he isn’t as adverse to physical contact as he used to be, which is nice for me because I don’t always have to be on my guard for accidental touches. And I’m just a tactile person by nature. “It’ll be fun.”

            He seems to think it over, and then nods. “I accept your offer, Jim. Thank you.”

            My heart soars. “Great! Well, we should probably report to the bridge. We can talk more about it later.” He nods, and we leave together for our shift. It is probably one of the slowest ones I’ve ever worked. I keep catching myself bouncing in my seat, and watching the clock. I can’t wait; a whole week alone with Spock! I’m sort of nervous, too, but I just know we’re going to have a great time. Maybe the way we interact together for a longer period of time will help me decide if becoming First Officer is the right decision for me.

            Finally, our shift ends after we dock the ship in an Earth port. The space station alerts us that we are free to start transporting our people down. I look at Spock and he acknowledges my suggestion to leave. We go to my quarters to get my things and then we stop by his so he can pack quickly and then we’re ready to go. It’s May in Iowa, so Spock shouldn’t be uncomfortable in the climate. It’ll be humid, most likely, which he might not be accustomed to, but my house has temperature settings inside. We beam down just outside my old farmhouse and I take a minute to drink in the sight of it. I hadn’t realized how homesick I’ve been. I show Spock into the house, giving him a quick tour and leading him up the stairs to the guest room where he’ll be staying. It’s right across the hall from mine.

            “Okay, everything you need should be in the linen closet in the hall,” I say, showing him the door. “Other than that, the space is yours. Do whatever you want. Are you hungry?” I ask, as I walk out the door and towards the kitchen.

            “Sustenance would be agreeable,” he says, and I nod.

            “I’ll order something,” I promise, and go down to use the phone. I decide on Italian food, because I suspect he’s never had it before. I order vegetable pasta for Spock and some spaghetti for myself. They show up about twenty minutes later and I call up to Spock to let him know the food’s here. He comes down and I put it on the table. He looks at the noodles dubiously. “Don’t worry, it’s vegetarian,” I assure him, and dig in to my own food. It’s delicious, just like I knew it would be. Spock takes a tentative first bite, and then a second before the wary look goes away. I laugh around my food. “It’s good, huh?” I ask after swallowing a mouthful.

            “Indeed. The taste is quite exquisite.”

            “Told you,” I say, and we eat in comfortable silence.

 

            The next couple of days pass by, and I enjoy Spock’s company. We play chess, I show him a couple of other old movies. I try to show him the treehouse I built as a kid, but I mainly end up falling out of the tree and making a fool of myself. Most evenings we go on a nice walk to see the sunset set behind the prairie grass. I tell him old stories about my brother Sam and I growing up, and how he’s settled down on another planet with his wife, Aurelan, and their little boy. He’s a scientist, too, and I admit that I don’t get to see him as much as I’d like to. Some stories are shared about the dumb stunts I pulled, like the one time I tried to fly off my roof and broke my ankle in the process. I purposefully leave out anything about Tarsus. I tell Spock that I wish he could have met my parents, because they’re the nicest people I’ve ever known. I recount stories of my time at the Academy, and how one year for my birthday Bones found these old glasses for me, because he knew I am allergic to Retinox 5. Spock takes it all in stride, and I find myself asking about his childhood.

            His home life was a lot darker than mine was. He struggled with his heritage, and the other Vulcan children picked on him because of who his mother is. That makes me angry, but I don’t say anything as he continues speaking. He tells about some of the arguments he and his dad had about what he should pursue in the future. His dad wanted him to enroll in the Vulcan Science Academy, but Spock wanted to be a starship captain. I tell him I’m glad he chose this path, and he gives me an almost-smile.

            “What’s your mother like?” I wonder, as we walk back home one night. It’s the third day of shore leave, and I find myself thinking that it’s passing by too soon.

            “She…is very similar to you, actually. Your characteristics remind me much of her sometimes. I believe you would get along with her quite well.”

            “I’d like to meet her sometime,” I tell him.

            “I will introduce you should the opportunity arise,” he responds, and I smile.

It’s getting late, and I realize we still haven’t had dinner yet tonight. When we arrive back home, I tell him that I’ll cook something for us, and he opts to stay in the kitchen to keep me company. I put on an old record of some mixed songs, most of which is 20th Century swing music. I sway to the beat as I fry up some veggies for the stir fry. He watches me with an eyebrow raised and I can’t help but laugh at the expression. I feel truly happy in this moment. I set the lid on the vegetables so they can steam, just as the track changes. A slower song comes on, and I stop dancing. “Oh, I forgot about this song.” It's called The Scientist, by an old band named Coldplay. How fitting. I look at Spock, and an odd feeling swells in my chest. I’m feeling reckless and impulsive, and a little desperate, and I just know I’m going to tell him how I feel. I open my mouth, but before I get the chance he asks me a question.

“Why have you ceased dancing?” He asks curiously from his chair.

“I can’t dance to this song by myself,” I tell him, and feeling bold, I offer him my hand. “Care to join me?”

Hesitantly, he takes my hand and I pull him close, clasping one of his hands in mine and placing my other at his back. He lays a hand gently on my shoulder, and we sway to the music, our cheeks brushing together. My whole body feels warm all over, and I can hardly believe I’m still standing. I electricity sparks wherever we touch, which is in quite a lot of places since we’re pressed against each other. I’m surprised he’s allowing this much contact between us, and I’m even more surprised that this doesn’t feel awkward between us. It feels…right.

I pull back to look him in the eyes. The warm brown looks at me expectantly, and I take a deep breath. “I am in love with you,” I murmur, my eyes never wavering from his. It’s like the world stops for a minute; everything freezes. Nothing exists except for us. It’s silent for a moment as the song comes to an end, and I’m almost afraid that he’s not going to respond. He pulls me closer to him and our lips meet in soft kiss, and I think I’m going to die. He pulls back to look at me again before I kiss him passionately, my hand coming up to cup his jaw. We stand locked in our embrace for a long moment, our fingers entwined and our lips moving together smoothly. I break away for breath and lean my forehead against his.

“I share your affection,” he whispers, and I can’t help the smile that follows. I place one last chaste kiss to his mouth before I move away to check on the food. Good timing, too, because it is cooked to perfection. I serve it on plates and we sit across from each other, eating quietly. He reaches across the table to take my hand, placing his middle and index finger against mine. I know what that means to Vulcans, and I blush. He gives me a soft smile, and I swear my heart stops beating. I think about what just happened, and I can hardly believe it occurred.

“I’m…surprised,” I admit, and he gives me a questioning look. “That you feel the same.”

“I have been intrigued by you for a long time, Jim. Was I not obvious in my attempts to better acquaint myself with you?”

I think about how I suddenly started to see him more often after the crisis on Ceti Beta VII, and I nod my head. “Now that I look back on it, you were, but in the moment I didn’t think much of it. I chalked it up to me seeing what I wanted to see.”

“You were mistaken,” he says softly.

“Why me, though?” I wonder aloud. “I mean, what drew your attention?”

He shakes his head. “I cannot fathom that you do not see it. You are intelligent, caring, and quite amusing when you do not attempt to be. There is much more to you than meets the eye, Jim.”

“If you say so,” I shrug. I look across the table and see that he’s finished his food. “Are you done?”

He nods, and I carry the plate to the sink. I look out the small window in front of me and I see something sparkle in the moonlight. Taking a closer look, I recognize what the object is and I get an idea. “Can I show you something,” I ask, turning around to look at him.

“Of course,” he replies. I go over and grab his hand, dragging him outside to the garage. Leaning against the wooden frame is a big black motorcycle, with two helmets hanging on hooks beside it. He looks at me, his eyes wide, and I laugh. “Trust me.” I put the helmet on him and put the other on myself, then climb on and start her up. The engine purrs and rumbles beneath me, and I suddenly can’t wait to be flying down a back road. I turn my head to look at him and gesture to the spot behind me. “Come on, get on.” He gives me a wary look and climbs on, wrapping his arms around my abdomen firmly. “Hang on,” I warn, and shoot off into the night. I whoop as we accelerate, and I feel Spock tighten his hold on me. The wind ruffles my clothes and I love the way it feels, like I’m flying. It’s too loud to talk to Spock, so I don’t know if he’s enjoying himself as much as I am. I eventually slow the motorcycle down to an appropriate speed and just cruise the back roads. We ride for a while until the bike is low on gas and then I take us back home.

Once we both have our feet securely planted on the ground, I take my helmet off and beam at him. “What’d you think?”

He takes off his helmet as well, and his bangs are all mussed up against his forehead. I fight the urge to laugh and reach out a hand to straighten them. “I found it to be tremendously exhilarating.”

“Me, too.” I say, and lead him back into the house. I let out a yawn and head up the stairs, Spock at my heels. “I’m beat,” I tell him. “I think I’m going to crash.” I open the door to my room and pause. “Would you want to…?” I can’t say the words, but I nod my head towards my room. I’m not suggesting sex. I just think some cuddling might be a nice way to end the night. He picks up on my meaning, and nods.

“I will change into my sleepwear,” he informs me, and turns to his own room.

I enter mine and get undressed and redressed as quickly as possible, almost falling over in the process. I pace the room for a second, unsure of how to proceed, and end up deciding to just lay on the bed and wait. Spock knocks before entering, and I tell him he can come in. He walks over to the bed and looks down at me shyly. Apparently, he’s never done anything like this, either. I scoot over and pat the bed, and he stretches out beside me. We stare at each other, not touching, before I reach across the space between us and interlace our fingers. It seems to make him relax and I roll over, pulling his arm so that it lies over my side. He scoots closer to me and my back is pressed snuggly to his chest, our bodies perfectly aligned. I tighten my hold on his hand and snuggle into him, closing my eyes and drifting softly to sleep.


	10. Half A Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In my head,  
> I see your baby blues.  
> I hear your voice and I  
> break in two and there's  
> one of me with you.  
> ~Beam Me Up by P!nk
> 
> This chapter is based off of The Enemy Within  
> Hope you enjoy! xoxo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the others, so hope you like it!

The rest of shore leave passes by peacefully. Spock and I spend the remainder of the days just lounging around and getting used to the new relationship between us. I’m glad it happened while we were on shore leave and not aboard the ship. It’s enough to take in as it is without the whole crew watching our every move. We’ve talked about it a couple of times and we’ve both decided it’d be best to take it slow. Both of us have admitted to never having been in a serious relationship before, and we’re both positive that we want us to be serious. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. It scares me, and I’ve told him as much. I don’t know how to handle someone needing me to be there for them, and I’m sure as hell not used to trusting someone not to break me. That scares me more than anything else; that he’ll leave and take the good parts of me with him. I’ve already been through that once, in a different situation, and I don’t think I could survive going through it again.

            On the very last day of leave, while we’re picking up the house and packing our clothes, I decide to tell Spock I’ll be his First Officer. I think I always knew I’d say yes; how could I refuse after he admitted he needed me? I am standing in the kitchen, cleaning up the last of the dishes when I hear him come down the stairs. I turn around and watch him place his bags next to the door. He sees me watching him and I beckon him over to my side. He crosses the room and looks at me curiously. I finish drying the plate that I am holding as I tell him, “I’ll be your First Officer.”

            His expression doesn’t change, but he reaches out to touch his fingers to mine in the traditional Vulcan kiss. I smile a little and reflect on how much we’ve changed. A couple months ago, I couldn’t even look at him without getting flustered. Now, we’re…here. I peck him softly on the cheek and tell him to go finish whatever he was doing before I interrupted him. I watch him walk away, then shake my head and turn back to the dishes. A few hours later, we’re all ready to return to the ship, and I’m somewhat reluctant to leave the peace and quiet of my house. There’s work to be done and space to be explored, however, and duty calls. We com the transport crew to beam us up, and there isn’t a response. Frowning, Spock tries again and static filters through the speakers along with a few syllables, but nothing we can understand. Spock tries again, and Scotty’s voice comes out, sounding warped and muffled.

            “Sir! There’s an ion storm approaching our coordinates. I can barely read your signal!”

            “Are the transporters capable of beaming us aboard, Mr. Scott?” Spock demands.

            “Aye, sir,” Scotty affirms. “But I cannae take more than one of you at a time.”

            “So be it, Mr. Scott. Engage.” Spock gives me a small smile before slowly disappearing in front of me. It only takes a moment and then I feel the familiar pull of the beam. When I materialize on the pad, Scotty is muttering to himself worriedly, and Spock is pacing quickly towards me. “Jim, are you alright?”

            “Errr…yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” I don’t understand why he’s staring at me, looking so concerned. It was only a second ago that he last saw me…wasn’t it?

            “The transporter is experiencing difficulties due to the ion storm,” he explains, seemingly satisfied that I am unharmed. “It took nearly five times longer than normal to beam you aboard.”

            “Oh. Well I feel okay. I don’t think—whoa.” I try to step off the pad and the rooms spins, and I’m hit with a wave of nausea. “I might throw up, actually.”

            Spock takes a firm hold of my arms and pulls me out of the room. He rushes me to sickbay and one I’m there Bones gives me a round of hypos that make me wince. “Gah,” I complain as he jabs the last one into my neck. “Why do I feel like you enjoy those?”

            “They’re not supposed to hurt, Jim,” Bones tells me. “If you would just sit still, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

            “I think anyone would be nervous with you sticking something in them,” I say, perfectly aware of how dirty it sounds.

            He makes a face at me. “Grow up, will you? And get out of my sickbay.”

            I do as I’m told, and Spock walks me back to my quarters. Once he gives the news to Uhura that she’s able to fully resign, she’ll relocate her room and I’ll move in to the quarters designated for First Officer. They’re a little more spacious, and it’s connected to the captain’s via a shared bathroom. It makes everything so much more convenient, because that way Spock and I won’t have to travel all the way across the ship if we want to stay the night together. And we’ll have more privacy. We agreed that while we aren’t going to hide our relationship, we aren’t going to flaunt it either. We don’t particularly want the whole crew sticking their noses into our private business. I’ll tell Sulu and Chekov, and of course Carol, and I’d called Bones while on shore leave, but other than that, no one really needs to know.

            After Bones’ hypos, the queasiness had gone away but a lot of the vertigo is still present. Spock still seems concerned, so I reassure him that I am fine and that I’m probably just going to go to bed since we don’t start work until tomorrow. He nods, and we share a lingering kiss before he leaves. I take my glasses off and stretch out on the bed. It’ll be weird sleeping alone tonight, but I’m pretty tired so hopefully it won’t be too hard to fall asleep. I make sure to take the sleep meds--I haven't needed them since Spock started sleeping next to me--and I end up passing out pretty quickly.

            I wake up seconds before my last alarm goes off, telling me _I_ _absolutely have to get up_ or I’ll be late for my shift. Weird, I didn’t even hear the first five alarms. I didn’t realize I had been so tired. I stand up slowly, and I’m pleased to find that the dizziness has passed. What a relief; my shift would’ve been a bitch if I would’ve had to fight for concentration all day. I don’t have time for a shower so I just change and head up to the bridge. Spock’s already sitting in his chair when I get up there, punctual as usual. I place a light hand on his arm as I pass, and the corners of his lips turn up slightly, only enough for me to see. I sit down at my station and ready myself for undocking procedure. We break off from the station easily and start our journey to the next system we’re exploring. There isn’t much to do as we travel, and I forgot to pee before coming to the bridge, so I excuse myself to use the restroom. I head to the nearest station and halfway there I get hit with the nausea again, full blast. I sprint to the bathroom, making it just in time before vomiting into the sink. I empty all the contents of my stomach, and slump against the cool tile, spent from practically expelling my insides. I try to stand up, but another wave hits me so hard that I just sit back down again.

I don’t know how long I stay there, but I don’t have the energy to pick myself off the ground. I do know that its way past the time for me to have returned to the bridge. Sure enough, a male yeoman comes bursting into the bathroom, presumably looking for me. Or…maybe not, because he looks damn confused to see me all but lying on the floor. He runs back out again, hopefully to call a medic, but instead returns with the captain. Spock rushes to my side and dismisses the yeoman. “Jim, what happened?”

“I think I picked up a virus,” I say hoarsely, my throat raw from the acid in my vomit. “It just hit me all of the sudden.”

He gives me a puzzled look. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Where else would I be? I can hardly move,” I point out. He nods distractedly and helps me to my feet, once again supporting me on our way to sickbay. We tell Bones about what happened, and he scans me over, but reports that everything turns up negative. I get another hypo instead, this time for nausea, and a few more with instructions to take them every four hours. Bones lets me brush my teeth, and tells me I’m on medical leave until the symptoms stop. This time I don’t argue about the leave. I feel terrible, like everything inside me is being torn in two. Bones takes me back to my quarters because Spock has to report to the bridge, but he promises he’ll check in later, and gives me a quick Vulcan kiss. Bones pretends to gag behind Spock’s back and I glare at him over his shoulder. Spock doesn’t notice, though, and a few minutes later I’m in my room staring at the walls because reading makes my head hurt. I lay there for a really, really long time, dozing in and out of sleep before deciding to get up and take a shower. The warm water feels wonderful against my skin, and when I get out I wrap a towel around my middle and walk back to my room. I’ve just stepped out of the bathroom when the door opens, showing Spock’s silhouette in the doorway. I smile at him and then freeze, my whole body going tense…

…Because Spock looks _outraged_. I’m talking there should be steam coming out of his ears, he’s so livid. He’s not even trying to hide it or mask it or whatever he normally does. He storms into the room and stands right in front of me. Some stupid part of my brain vaguely reminds me that I’m clad in only a towel, but I forcibly push it down. This is _so_ not the time for sexy thoughts. “What is the purpose of this?” He demands furiously.

I’m almost scared to respond, considering I have no idea what the hell is going on. I give him a startled look. “Um, what?” Again, Kirk, you truly have a way with words.

He gestures agitatedly between us. “This. Us. What precisely are your intentions?”

“Okay, maybe I’m just dense, but I really don’t understand what you mean. What are you talking about?” He just glares, and it’s starting to make me uncomfortable. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“You are aware of what upsets me,” he says stiffly. “I observed your earlier behavior. You can cease pretending to be ignorant.”

Okay, now I’m really bewildered, just in case I haven’t made that clear enough. “I literally have no idea what is going on right now. Seriously, _I am ignorant_. I’ve been in here since I left the sickbay, so I don’t know to which ‘behavior’ you’re referring to.”

“If you do not wish to discuss it, then I will not pursue the topic any further,” he says angrily, taking a few steps towards the door. “But just so it is clear, our courtship is over.”

“What?!” He walks out of the door and into the corridor. “Spock, wait!” I am about to rush out after him, but then I remember that I’m practically naked. I throw on some underwear and pants and race after him bare-chested. I catch him stalking back towards the bridge, and I grab his arm, spinning him towards me. “What are you even talking about? Why are you doing this? I don’t even know what I did!”

This only seems to irritate him more. “Unhand me, Mr. Kirk,” he says in his coldest tone. I release him as though I’ve been burned. His tone makes me take a step backwards. “Return to your quarters. That is an order, Commander.” I watch, stunned, as he turns his back to me and walks away. I look around and notice that quite an audience has accumulated, and they scatter as I make my way back to my room. I sit on the bed, feeling my heart break as I replay what just happened. None of it makes any sense and I don’t care to dwell on it. I just pick up my book and lose myself in the story, and when I’ve finished that I curl up on my bed and lose myself in the dreams that usually haunt me but now provide an adequate distraction.

When I wake up, I feel even worse than before. I apply another hypo, but nothing seems to take the edge off. The whole room sways as I stand up, and I don’t even make it to the bathroom before I collapse, dry-heaving because there’s nothing left in my stomach. The gagging becomes worse, and I can’t get enough oxygen, I can’t breathe. My vision starts to tunnel and I press my face onto the tile, feeling unconsciousness dragging me under.

I wake up in sickbay. God, I am getting tired of this place. I grab my glasses from the side table, and turn my head to the side and see…me. Wait, back up a second. Am I hallucinating now? I look around, and the rest of the room seems normal. I return my gaze back to the bed next to mine and…yep, I’m still there. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

In the corner of my eye, I see Bones walk in, but I don’t take my eyes off of my duplicate lying unconsciously across from me. I take in the restraints holding him to the bed. Bones walks into my direct line of vision, blocking my view of me. I look up at him questioningly. “Was I whacked with the crazy stick or what?”

“Are you talking about the fact that there’s another you on the other bed? Because if you are, then no. He’s really there.”

“How is this even possible?” I wonder. “There is something very wrong here.” No, wait, I’ve found the solution. “I’m dreaming,” I announce.

“No, idiot, you’re fully conscious.” Bones tells me, rolling his eyes. “If you’d close that pretty mouth of yours for about two seconds, I’d be able to explain.” I close my mouth and pretend to zip my lips, which earns me another eye roll. “Scotty thinks that when you beamed up during the ion storm, the transporter seriously malfunctioned. Split you into two, literally. From what I’ve seen, it’s like you were manifested into your two most dominant personalities. This you, the one I’m talking to, is your good side: smart, caring, sensible, curious, considerate. The other you,” he gestures to the one restrained to the bio-bed, “is the bad you: irritating, sarcastic, violent; the…you that survives, prevails, does whatever it takes to get what he wants.”

“So the douche-me,” I sum up, and he nods.

“Pretty much.”

“Great. So what’s my other half been up to this whole time? And how'd you find out about him...us?”

Bones scratches his head awkwardly. “Well…he obviously wasn’t experiencing the physical discomfort that you were.”

“And?”

“Well…he’s been causing trouble while the ship's computer said you were in your quarters. It wasn't hard to figure out. He—you—has gotten into at least six different fights with crewmen and hit on a dozen different people. He wasn’t so subtle about it either…”

“Oh shit,” I say, as the realization hits me. “Spock.”

“Yeah, he stumbled upon you—him—sticking your tongue down some security officer’s throat. You—he—bolted after being caught.”

“Damn,” I curse. “He must’ve come to my quarters right after that, assuming that’s where I’d fled to. He freaked out and broke up with me. I probably would’ve too, in his position. Where is he, anyways?”

“He came down here after I carried you here—I found you out cold on your floor. He was here for a while but then had to go back on duty. He doesn’t know about your other half yet seeing as we caught the other you after he left; I figured it’d be better to tell him with you being conscious.”

“Thanks, Bones.” I sigh. “How are we going to fix this?”

“I’ve talked to Scotty, and he thinks that if you beam down with him,” he jerks his head to the other me, “that it’ll set you right again. He thinks he’s fixed the transporter, but I don’t know if you should risk it, Jim. The shock might kill you.”

“Anything’d be better than being only half a man,” I say honestly. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so,” I grin.

A sound startles us both and I see the other me start to struggle against the restraints. When he sees me watching him he becomes hysteric, screaming and thrashing against his bonds. McCoy tries to calm him but all he does is spit in his face. “NO!” He shouts. “NO, I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK, YOU CAN’T MAKE ME! I’LL KILL YOU, I’LL KILL YOU BOTH!” Bones finally gives up trying to make him relax and just shoots him with a sedative. Almost immediately, the other me goes slack, and his head lolls against the pillow.

“Wow, I’m a real charmer.”

 My comment doesn't even faze Bones. “He should be out for a while. I guess I’d better go call Spock.” He leaves the room, and I hear him talked quietly outside the door. A few minutes later he comes back in, Spock trailing him. He pauses as he takes in both of me, and then it dawns on him, and he gives me a poorly concealed horrified look.

“Doctor,” he starts, “if you would excuse us for a moment?”

I shake my head and get off the bed. I sway a little bit and grab onto Bones for support. “We can talk about it later. Right now, this is our main priority. Let’s get us to the transporter room so we can fix this.”

“We are currently orbiting Earth once more, on the doctor’s suggestion.”

“Then let’s get a move on it,” I say.

Spock nods tersely, and helps Bones lift the other me out of the bed. Between the two of them, they support his deadweight. Bones grunts. “God, Jim, have you put on weight?”

“It’s muscle,” I say absently. We walk down to the transporter pad, and Scotty gives me an apologetic look.

“I’m really sorry about this, Jim, I really am.”

I wave off his apology. “Don’t worry about it, Scotty. It wasn’t your fault.”

I grab my counterpart and heave us both onto the pad. Spock reaches out to help, but I wave him off. “I got this.” I’m not necessarily mad at him; I probably would’ve done the same if the situations reverse. I am miffed, however, that he wouldn’t even listen to me or believe me when I tried to tell him I didn’t understand. Relationships are supposed to be about trust, and if he doesn’t trust me—or even know me well enough to know that I’d NEVER cheat—then I don’t know what we’re doing. We’ll need to talk, and I am not looking forward to it. I don’t want to end our relationship by any means, considering we just started it and it’s been great up until this point, but we need to get some things straightened out, definitely.

I get us situated and give Scotty a nod, signaling I’m ready to energize. I lock eyes with Spock, fully knowing I might not come back. No words are spoken, but I know he feels the same way I do. My vision goes fuzzy and for a moment I see prairie grass and then I’m facing the three men in the transporter room once more. I feel complete, suddenly whole again and I realize I’m not supporting my counterpart’s weight anymore. I grin triumphantly at the three of them, and I walk over to clap Scotty on the shoulder. “You’re a miracle worker, my friend.”

He smiles at me, clearly relieved. “I’m just glad I got you back in one piece,” he says, which makes me laugh.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I say to Bones, and he walks off, muttering “kid thinks he’s damn near indestructible, doesn’t he”. Scotty follows him out, sensing Spock and I need a moment, and I give him a grateful look as he leaves. He merely winks in response, and the door closes swiftly behind him.

I turn to face Spock, who is wearing a stoic expression and has his hands folded behind his back. I spread my hands out helplessly in front of me. “What are we doing, Spock?”

“I believe we are engaging in a conversation,” he says, and takes a few steps towards me. “I must apologize, Jim. Had I been completely aware of the situation, I would not have reacted as I did.”

“I get that,” I tell him. “I really do. But if you can’t trust me, or even hear me out when I try to explain, then I don’t know how this is going to work.”

“It is not that I do not trust you. It is merely my own insecurity that led me to believe that you desired another. I will not make the same mistake twice. If you will forgive me, I will make a better attempt towards strengthening our relationship.” He looks at a spot somewhere over my shoulder, and then meets my eyes. “I am sorry, Jim. I do not wish to lose you.”

I walk over and wrap my arms around his shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. “I forgive you.” He returns my embrace readily, pressing his mouth into the place where my shoulder meets my neck. We stand like that for a moment before I pull away. “Bridge?” I ask, and he nods. We make our way to the turbo-lift hand in hand, only disengaging when we have to report to our separate stations. The ship leaves Earth one more time, and we are on our way to our next adventure.


	11. Not So Different After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration taken from Errand of Mercy.  
> Spock and Kirk attempt to initiate a peace treaty with the planet Organian before the Klingons can use it as a war base. When Klingons show up during negotiations, shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really long for whatever reason. Not as many cute moments K/S moments in this one, but the next one will have some, I promise. :)  
> xoxo

Carol bursts into my quarters one evening right after Spock left from our nightly chess game. I was due to move in to my new quarters tomorrow, and until then we’ve been sleeping in separate rooms. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She demands.

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, and avoid her gaze. “Um, you know, I was getting around to it…”

“Bullshit!” She explodes, pointing an accusing finger at me. “That’s complete bullshit!”

“I’ve been busy,” I say defensively. And it’s true, I have been.

“Oh, too busy to tell your best girl friend that you’re sleeping with the captain, are you?” She’s on the verge of seriously freaking out, I can tell. I have a knack for sensing when girls are about to smack me.

“Whoa, whoa, wait. We aren’t having sex.” I hold my hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, truly.”

“I had to find out from Leonard,” she narrows her eyes at me. “How could you find time to tell him, but not me?”

“I, uh, yeah I’ve got nothing. I’m sorry!”

She looks at me dangerously for another moment, and then squeals and throws her arms around me. Girls, I swear. “I’m so happy for you, Jim. You two are so cute!”

“You’ve still never seen me around him,” I remind her.

“No, but Nyota tells me all about your cute glances on the bridge, and how he’s always touching you when you’re near…”

“God, the whole ship’s going to know,” I groan, covering my face with my hands—which is difficult with glasses on—and she laughs.

“Relax, honey, we can keep your dirty little secret.”

I throw a pillow at her. “Get out.”

She wiggles her fingers at me and then leaves, and I kind of want to bang my head against the wall. She has that effect on people. Me, mainly, because no one else seems to have to deal with her the way I do. I rub my eyes behind my glasses and glance at the chronometer. I’m meeting Spock for breakfast in the mess hall an hour and a half before our shift, and I’ve only got about 12 hours before it starts. I better get to bed. I take my meds and put my glasses on the table, and then drift slowly off to sleep.

The next morning, I wake and shower, and after I’m dressed I head down to the mess. Spock’s already there and has secured a table, so I grab a bowl of oatmeal and sit across from him. “Hey,” I say, and give him a small smile.

His eyes twinkle at me. “Good morning, Jim. Was your slumber adequate?”

“Yeah, I slept okay, you?”

“It will be more agreeable tonight.” I blush, catching his meaning. I’m moving into the FO quarters tonight, which means we’ll literally be a door away from each other.

I clear my throat. “Definitely.”

We finish eating and head up to the bridge. Today is important for another reason, also. We’re due to orbit Organia today, to try and create a peace treaty between the planet and the Federation. The planet is situated in a perfect position for use as a Klingon base, so our orders are to establish relations with the Organians before the Klingons take them over first. Relations between the Empire and the Federation are on thin ice; Starfleet expects a war to break out any day now. The bridge is quiet, with only the noises of the instruments filling our ears. Suddenly the whole ship lurches and I’m thrown against my station. I check the readings immediately. “Captain, we’ve been hit. Minor hull damage, sir; the scanners are picking up on the ship. It seems to be of Klingon origin.”

“Shields up, Mr. Sulu,” the captain orders.

“Aye sir,” he replies, and moves frantically at his station. “Shields are at one hundred percent, sir.”

“Very good, Helmsman. Fire phasers.”

“Firing.” Sulu reports back. “Direct hit!”

“Debris detected, Captain,” I call. “I think it’s been destroyed. I’m not getting anything on the scanners.”

“Double check, Commander. I do not want to be caught unprepared a second time.”

“I did, sir.” I say, turning to look at him. “There isn’t anything except a bunch of garbage.”

“Acknowledged, thank you.” He gives me a grateful look, and I turn back to my station, feeling oddly satisfied. The rest of the journey to Organia passes uneventfully, but Spock stays tensed and ready for action nevertheless. We begin to orbit the planet and Spock motions me over to the turbo-lift. We travel to the transporter room, and I can feel that Spock is uneasy beside me.

I pull him aside for a moment and give him a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

“Indeed, yet I am apprehensive about beaming to the surface. I have an illogical premonition that things will not go according to plan.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” I tell him, and squeeze his arm reassuringly. “We can do this.”

He nods, and we enter the transporter room. There’s an ensign manning the controls, and Spock gives the order to energize. A moment passes and then we’re staring at an old-style market, complete with people dressed in drawstring pants and canvas tunics. A man clad in a softer looking cotton outfit approaches us. His grey beard and soft eyes make him seem approachable, and he spreads his hands as he walks towards us. “Ah, you must be the starship captain.”

“Correct. This is my First Officer, Commander Kirk.” Spock responds, gesturing to me.

I incline my head politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Please,” the man says, “call me Ayelborne.”

“With your permission, I’d like to observe your society’s behaviors for the ships data banks.” I look back and forth between the two men, realizing I need both of their approval before pursuing my observations. The both give their consent, and I wander off, watching how the people interact and how they carry on in their daily lives. I get a couple of weird looks, probably due to my technology and my dress. It becomes increasingly obvious that while the ship has this planet cataloged as “progress towards industrialization”, there’s no progress being made. They’ve completely stopped developing past this stage. They still operate in a village system, with markets and trading posts instead of stores. They have mediocre clothing and absolutely no technology. This alarms me, as there should be some sign of their advancement, but I can’t find any. I decide that I need to report back to Spock and tell him about what I’ve noticed.

I find Spock in a council room, arguing candidly with a group of men, probably the leaders of the society. Apparently, the Organians don’t see the Klingons as a threat. “You’ll forgive me, chairman, but you are making a grave mistake. You are not aware of the damage the Empire could inflict upon your people if you allow them to take refuge here.”

“Spock,” I interrupt quietly. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

We go over to the corner to the room and I bend my head closer to his and lower my voice. “They’re culture is completely arrested; there’s been absolutely no change whatsoever in the last century, or the century before, for that matter. They should’ve been well on their way towards industrialization but they just…aren’t. I don’t know why. I can’t find anything that would be holding them back.”

Spock frowns minutely. “Very strange indeed.”

“Yeah, there’s something weird going on around here.”

“They do not wish to engage in political negotiations with the federation.” Spock says, and I can tell he’s slightly frustrated. Just then, Spock’s communicator beeps and he pulls it out. “Spock here.”

“Captain!” Scotty’s voice carries through the device. “We’re in a bit of a bind up here, sir.”

“Status, Mr. Scott.” Spock says, sounding completely calm. A loud crash comes through the speaker, and Spock and I share an alarmed look.

“Well, to be frank with you, we’re being attacked by Klingons!” Another loud noise sounds.

“Mr. Scott,” Spock says calmly despite the situation. “Your first duty is to the ship. Get her out of range and return at a safer time.”

“But sir!” Scotty protests. “We can’t leave you down there!”

“You have your orders, Mr. Scott. Spock out.” He closes his communicator. “It seems as though we might be spending a large amount of time here, Commander.” I can see how worried he is about the ship, but since we’re still on duty I don’t approach the subject.

“Aye, sir,” I acknowledge, and turn to the council. “Sirs, there are Klingons approaching here rapidly. If you don’t let us help you, there isn’t much we can do after they arrive.”

“I believe they are more of a threat to you than they are to us, Mr. Kirk. Perhaps it would be safest for you to adorn yourselves in native clothing, so as to keep your identities a secret.” Ayelborne reaches into a nearby cupboard and gives us each a pile of clothing.

“We are grateful for your assistance,” Spock says, and we quickly change into the garments. Ayelborne takes our uniforms, along with our phasers unfortunately. “We can’t have any violence disrupting the community,” he informs us, and I want to roll my eyes.

“Doesn’t he realize that’s exactly what’s coming?” I whisper to Spock, who shakes his head at the council’s ignorance.

No sooner than our belongings are hidden, three Klingons barge through the closed doors, weapons raised. The leader steps forward and sneers at the council. “You people almost ask to be conquered,” he laughs darkly. “It’s almost too easy!”

Ayelborne spreads his hands in front of him, like he did when we first arrived. “We have no quarrel with you.”

“Weak!” He remarks. “We will take this planet. You answer now to me, Kor.” When the council makes no objections, he looks around the room and notices Spock and me for the first time. “And who are you?” When we don’t answer, he shoves his face very close to mine. I feel Spock tense beside me. “Answer me!” The Klingon snarls. I get a whiff of his breath and have to fight the urge to gag.

“This is Baroner,” Ayelborne supplies from behind Kor. “His friend is Spock, a Vulcan merchant specializing in trillium and kevas.”

Kor’s eyes drift from my face to Spock’s, and he looks at him suspiciously. “I don’t trust Vulcans,” he mutters, looking at Spock as though he is something dirty.  “They always turn out to be traitors or spies.” I immediately take a step forward menacingly, and Spock has to grab my arm to hold me back. The Klingon chuckles and the sound makes my blood boil. “Hit a soft spot, did we?” He grins evilly at me and then raises his voice to the other two behind him. “Take the Vulcan to the mind-sifter. Make sure he is who he says he is.” Kor’s henchmen step forward and grab Spock’s arms, dragging him towards the door. Surprisingly, Spock offers no resistance. I begin to protest and follow but Spock cuts me off. “Stay here, Jim.” I hear the order in his voice, and do as he says, but every part of me aches to go after him.

Kor stays behind and studies me curiously. “You are different than the other people here, aren’t you? You are intelligent; fire courses through your veins. You feel the urge to fight, like my people.”

“I am _nothing_ like you,” I spit, and he laughs.

“Don’t be so sure, Baroner. I feel like I could work with a man like you. You are my new liaison between the natives and myself. Walk with me, and I will tell you of your duties.” I follow him out and into an office, where he outlines all of the tasks he expects me to perform. I won’t be doing any of them, of course. After an hour of listening to Kor talk, his men escort Spock into the office, seemingly unharmed.

“Are you okay, Spock?” I ask straightaway, and he nods imperceptibly.

“The Vulcan is who he says,” one of the guards reports gruffly. “All he cares about is how he’s going to continue his sales while we’re in charge.”

“Very well,” Kor responds, but he still eyes Spock warily, as though he can sense something is off about him. “But you will be under observation, understood?” Spock nods tersely. “Good. Now get out of my sight. Both of you.” We leave the office and put as much room between the Klingons and ourselves as possible.

Once we are a good distance away, Spock pulls us over into a private area. He looks me over for any abrasions, although I assure him they did not touch me. “What are we going to do, Spock?” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then he gets a strange, familiar gleam in his eyes. “Oh, no.”

He looks puzzled. “What is it, Jim?”

“You’re giving me that look.”

“What look?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“The _I’m-about-to-do-something-completely-crazy-and-illogical-but-I’d-never-admit-to-it_ look.”

“I have no such look,” Spock objects.

“Yeah, you totally do,” I disagree.

“Even if I was acquiescent with your claims, which I am not, you have frequently performed reckless actions yourself. On numerous occasions.”

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to be the rational one. You’re plans scare the living hell out of me.”

            “I…do not understand.”

            “Never mind.”

 

            One crazily planned out strategy later, we are stooping behind a wall, keeping an eye on the Klingon guards patrolling the supply of ammunition. “We are so going to die,” I murmur, and Spock gives me an irritated look. We wait until the guards are in position, and then we attack, making our way towards the store of ammo. Soon, all of the guards around us are lying unconscious and we’re sneaking into the gated area. Spock holds up the sonic grenade he had somehow acquired between now and earlier, and he signals for me to get to a safe distance. He pulls the pin and throws it towards the supply, and then sprints to where I am squatting behind a wall. I hear the explosion and feel the tremors rock the earth beneath my feet. We share a look of triumph, and then I’m being hauled to my feet. I look around and see that we’re surrounded by a Klingon security group. Shit, we are so screwed. They take us to the council room and Kor stalks in, looking thoroughly pissed.

            “Who are you?” He roars, “Because you are not native Organians.” I lift my chin defiantly, and don’t answer. Spock does the same. Kor growls and slaps Spock across the face. Spock doesn’t react. “Answer me!”

            “They are from the United Federation of Planets,” Ayelborne cuts in. “I am sorry, Captain, but I cannot witness this.”

            “Captain?” The Klingon nearly purrs. Fear spikes within me at the malice in his voice. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my lucky day; I’ve heard captains have interesting information on Starfleet. Perhaps we can put your knowledge to the test.”

            “You will not gain any valuable information on me, Klingon,” Spock says confidently. “As it was made obvious earlier, your device is no match for my disciplined mind.”

            “Perhaps, but we can use him,” Kor smirks, pointing a finger towards me.

            “He does not know any classified information,” Spock states, confused.

            “Maybe not, but we can use him to…encourage you to speak. Grab them.” The guards step forward and clamp down painfully on my arms. The chairman begins to protest but Kor cuts him off. “Take them to my office. There’s much work to be done.”

            They deposit us in Kor’s ‘office’, which has been refurbished to resemble a torture chamber more than anything else. My heart starts beating faster, and they shove me down on my hands and knees while restraining Spock in iron cuffs attached to the wall. Kor walks in leisurely, and plants a well-aimed kick to my ribcage. I sprawl on the floor, and he kicks me again. I feel one or two of my ribs crack from the impact, and he doesn’t give me time to get up before he’s dragging me to my feet by my hair. I stay silent, determined not to give him any satisfaction. I don’t look at Spock, though I can feel his eyes boring into the back of my head as they force me onto a table in the center of the room. I struggle, believe me; I put up one hell of a fight, but I’m no match for three men with superior strength. They strap me to the table, and I can’t move any of my limbs.

            “Ready to start talking?” Kor asks Spock, waving a sharp-looking knife in my direction. Spock doesn’t say anything, _can’t_ say anything, otherwise he’d be betraying the Federation. Kor walks to my side, and looks down at me. “I’d apologize for what is about to happen,” he says, his voice full of contempt. “But I’m not really sorry.” He cuts my shirt off with the knife, but leaves my trousers on. Deliberately, he sticks the knife into my side slowly, drawing out the suffering. I bite my lip hard to stop from crying out. White-hot agony flares in my side and my eyes water from the pain. He smiles cruelly. “This is only the beginning,” he promises.

            He holds true. The next hour is intolerable. Somewhere between the fifth and sixth time he sticks the knife into various parts of my body is when I lose my control. Between each stab, he makes shallow nicks and cuts across my abdomen, as if marking me will make him feel better. The seventh thrust of the knife draws a bloodcurdling yell from my mouth, and my throat is rubbed raw from the effort. When the wounds get to be too much for me to handle, they bandage and treat them in order for me to stay conscious. When they think I’ve lost too much blood, they resort to beating the hell out of me, and breaking random bones. By the end of the session, I have seven stab wounds, three broken fingers, four cracked ribs, a black eye, and a shattered ankle, along with several cuts across my chest. “Tomorrow,” Kor vows, “if your captain does not talk, we will result to whipping. It’s a personal favorite of mine.” He turns to the guards. “Take this one to the cell. I wish to speak to the Vulcan for a moment.”

            The pain is blinding, and I can’t focus on anything else. I’m pretty sure I black out, but I don’t even know. I cease to exist; nothing is real except the pain. Every movement sends waves of unbearable torment. After what seems like an infinite amount of time, I’m able to push past the pain and orient myself in my surroundings. I’m lying in a cold, dark cell, the only light streaming in from the small barred window on the door. I raise my head weakly and look around. It’s completely empty other than myself. I panic for a moment, worrying for Spock when the door opens and he’s thrust in. He stumbles for a moment, glaring at our captives, but then he spots me on the ground. Spock rushes to my side immediately, kneeling beside me and looking utterly devastated. I try to smile but I think it comes out as more of a grimace, and his expression darkens. He carefully lifts my head and places it in his lap, trying to ease as much of my discomfort as possible.

            “I am sorry, ashayam,” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. My eyes flutter closed at his touch, and I start to drift off. “Jim!” he says frantically, and my eyes open sluggishly. “You must stay conscious. Please.”

            “I am so tired, Spock.” I whisper, and his fingers ghost across my face.

            “If you would permit it, I could attempt to block the pain through a meld.”

            “Would you feel it?” I ask worriedly, not wanting him to experience what I’m going through right now. It feels like I’ve been picked up by a tornado back in Iowa and tossed a thousand feet through the air. Worse, actually.

            “Only briefly, while I am constructing the shields,” he assures me, and I trust him.

            “Then do it,” I say, and I feel his fingers position themselves at my psi-points.

            “My mind to your mind,” he says quietly. “My thoughts to your thoughts.”

            There is a bright flash of light, like an explosion of fireworks, and then I feel Spock lightly pressing into my mind, sorting through my thoughts and feelings. I can feel him, too, but it’s crude. I can’t comprehend much more right now than the pain. I do feel warmth radiating from every gentle touch of Spock’s mind; he sends soothing thoughts while he searches for the root of my pain. When I lead him to it, I feel his mind tense before fully embracing it and cutting off the neural pathways. The absence of pain is a shocking relief, and I get the complete sense of Spock’s mind before he withdraws. It’s amazing; I can detect every ounce of his kindness, his intelligence and his logic, his affection and worry for me. Even his fear that we won’t survive this.

            The material world manifests around me as I come to my senses. There isn’t any pain anymore; I know that it’s there, I simply cannot register it. I smile up at Spock, who in turn gives me a worried glance. “Thanks, Spock.”

            “Of course, Jim.”

            “We have to get out of here,” I tell him, and no sooner than the words leave my lips do the doors open. I sit up, alert, and Spock gets to his feet. Ayelborne steps into the low light, and he gestures hurriedly with his hands for us to follow him. Spock reaches down to help me to my feet, and supports most of my weight seeing as I can’t walk, due to my ankle. We step out into the corridor, and look around cautiously, but there are no Klingon guards in sight. Ayelborne leads us to the council room, and once there Spock deposits me carefully in a chair, and then turns to our savior.

            “Why did you assist us?” He asks warily.

            “They were going to kill you,” Ayelborne says, as though it should be obvious. “We could not condone such violence.”

            “And yet you let them torture my First Officer,” he says, and although I detect the fierce anger in his voice, I doubt the Organian can.

            Before the chairman can respond, a ruthless voice sounds over the intercom. “Attention, attention, there are two fugitives on the loose. 200 Organians have just been killed in the village square. If the prisoners are not returned in two hours, another 200 will be killed. This is the wrath of Kor.” The intercom cut out.

I look at Spock in dismay. “Two hundred,” I whisper.

Spock turns back to the councilmen. “We require our weapons. Give them to us, and we may be able to spare your people.”

Ayelborne sighs, and approaches a cupboard built into the wall. He withdraws our two phasers and our communicators. He hands them to Spock, who immediately attempts to hail the Enterprise. “Enterprise, come in. Enterprise, respond.” Nothing happens, but Spock tries again. “Captain Spock to Enterprise, come in please.” Still nothing, but Spock tries one last time. “Enterprise, _respond_.”

“Scotty here, Captain,” Scotty suddenly answers, and I see Spock close his eyes briefly in relief. He hands me one of our two phasers.

“Mr. Scott, what is your status?”

“There’s a whole flock of the bastards up here, Captain, but the fleet has sent back up to this sector. There are five other ships here with us.”

“Very good, Mr. Scott. We—“ Spock’s cut off at Kor slams the council room’s doors open, stomping in with five security officers trailing behind him.

“You!” He growls. “I knew you’d be in here with these worms. Grab them!”

Spock tries to stun the guards, and I raise my gun as well. Suddenly, the instruments become scalding hot, and I drop mine with a yelp. Spock also releases his, but before we have time to dwell on it the Klingons are surging forward, attempting to get a hold of both of us. One yanks me out of my chair and tries to drag me towards the door, but the scalding friction once again occurs and he leaps away from me. I see that Spock has also released his Klingon, holding his hands close as if burned. “What is going on? Grab them, I say!” Kor rages, but his henchmen shake their heads.

“We can’t, sir! It’s like they’re too hot to touch!”

“Yes we are,” I say suavely, and Spock gives me an irritated look. Probably not the best time, but I couldn’t help myself.

“I believe this feud has gone on long enough,” Ayelborne steps forward. “There will be no more violence.”

“You are doing this?” I ask, bewildered. It seems unlikely that the very people who refuse to defend themselves are capable of this sort of defense.

“Yes, Commander, it is us. There will not be a war between your people.”

“How curious that you now intervene in our relations,” Spock comments, “when earlier you did not wish to interfere, even minutely.”

“We did not believe your fighting would affect us, before,” Ayelborne explains. “But now it is certain. You must come to peaceful terms and leave this planet.”

“Captain!” Scotty’s voice yells through the communicator. “The ships dead, sir! No power!”

“ _What do you mean no power? This is unacceptable!”_ Kor is screaming into his communication device.

“I told you,” Ayelborne says impatiently. “You will not fight a war!”

“You don’t have the right,” I begin, but Spock holds up a hand to silence me.

“Give me back my fleet!” Kor demands, but Ayelborne shakes his head.

“Why do you not allow us to help you?” Spock asks curiously, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head. “Two hundred men have died at the hands of these Klingons. Do you not want to save the remaining population of Organian?”

“You do not understand Captain,” Ayelborne responds. “No one has died here for thousands of years.”

“Explain,” Spock requests.

“Millions of years ago,” a councilmen named Claymore begins, “we had humanoid bodies lie yourselves. We have evolved past the need of physical forms. What you see is simply manifested for your sake.”

“Fascinating,” Spock murmurs, and I nod my head in agreement.

“That’s amazing!” I exclaim, and then wince as a shot of pain shoots through my side. It passes quickly, but it worries me. Spock notices, and comes to my side. “I think the shield you put up is weakening,” I tell him quietly.

“All the more reason for your departure,” Ayelborne insists. “There is nothing you can do, gentlemen. Your hands are tied. I would be amenable to settling a treaty between our peoples, but via communications. I must request you leave now. Your presence is unsettling to beings such as ourselves.”

“ _We_ disgust _you_?” Kor sneers. “I believe you have it backwards. I would rather die than ally with the likes of you.”

“Fortunately, you are not the leader of your Empire,” Spock says drily, and helps me to my feet. “If you will allow our ship transportation capabilities, we will beam aboard and connect you to the head of the Federation. From there, you can discuss diplomatic matters.”

“Thank you, Captain. That seems very logical. As for you,” Ayelborne turns to Kor. “We will contact your Empire as well. You must leave now. Both of your battle capabilities will be disabled until things are sorted out.”

“Acknowledged,” he shifts so that he can better support my weight, and takes out his communicator. “Mr. Scott, if you would transport us aboard, Commander Kirk is in need of immediate medical attention.” I hear Bones cursing in the background, which means he must have been on the bridge during the whole crisis. We wait to be beamed up, and Spock gives Ayelborne the traditional ta’al. “Live long and prosper.”

Ayelborne, Claymore, and the rest of the councilmen nod their heads in assent, and then the transporter room appears around us just as the mental shield in my mind breaks from the strain. I would’ve collapsed had Spock not caught me, and I gasp as it hits me all at once. I think Bones shouts my name as he rushes into the room, but I black out as agony overtakes me.

 

I wake up in sickbay, which is getting really old, and by the look Bones gives me when he sees I’m awake, he agrees. He comes over to check my vitals, and shakes his head. “They really did a number on you down there, Jim. I don’t know how you survived.”

“How many times have I told you? You can’t get rid of me that easily. Where’s Spock?”

Bones rolls his eyes. “What, suddenly I’m not good enough for you? He’s dealing with the natives; Starfleet put him in charge of negotiations.”

“Good,” I nod. “He’ll make sure everything turns out all right.”

“Yes, without a doubt, though I thought he looked downright murderous when Scotty beamed you up.”

“What do you mean?” Spock, showing emotion in public? He rarely shows how he’s feeling when we’re alone. It surprises me.

“I mean, I thought for a moment that he might go back down and kill the bastards who did this to you.”

“Spock wouldn’t do that,” I argue. “It’d go against his logic.”

“Pay attention, will you? I didn’t say he did it; I said I thought he might. Not only that, but I don’t think logic had much to do with it.”

“Give me a break, I just woke up. How long have I been out, anyways?”

“About a week. I kept you in a medically-induced coma in order to give your body some time to rest.”

“A week?!” I gape, and then furrow my eyebrows. “Wait, why are negotiations taking so long?”

“The Klingons are being difficult. Not really surprising, but it’s nothing Spock can’t handle.”

“Undoubtedly,” I yawn. Bones looks at me, and then shakes his head again.

“Get some rest, kid.” He pats my hand comfortingly, and then leaves the sickbay. I don’t even try to fight off the exhaustion; I give in, and meet the darkness willingly.


	12. There's Nowhere Else I'd Rather Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim moves into his new quarters and Spock helps him deal with his past.

When I come to again, Spock’s sitting next to me, reading reports on his PADD. I watch him for a minute before alerting him to my consciousness. He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in days, and my heart thumps painfully at the thought of him neglecting himself. It’s an illogical action on his part. I clear my throat lightly, and he looks up immediately. Relief shines in his eyes and he sets the PADD aside. I give him a reassuring smile. “Jim.”

“Hey there. How’re you feeling?”

“Should I not be asking you the same query?” He says, and lifts an eyebrow.

I chuckle. “Spock, I’m in sickbay, I can’t get any worse. I’m not sure I can say the same for you. When’s the last time you slept?”

“Vulcan’s do not require the same amount of sleep as Humans.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Spock,” I say gently. “Is this—this better not be a way of punishing yourself for what happened on the planet.”

“You’re injuries are due to my behavior.”

“It couldn’t be avoided. You did what was necessary. It wasn’t an option for you to tell them what they wanted, and they wouldn’t have stopped otherwise. I don’t blame you. You need to forgive yourself.”

He reaches forward and places a hand over mine. “You were near death, Jim. I cannot forget that so easily.”

“I’m right here,” I remind him. “It’s no use dwelling over what can’t be changed. I’ll be alright.”

“For that I am glad,” he answers vehemently, and I smile.

“I have to agree,” I joke. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” I say more seriously.

He squeezes my hand tightly. “There is nowhere else I would rather be.”

 Bones comes in to check on me a few minutes later, and says he wants to keep me another night, but tomorrow I’ll be released on medical leave for three days. I feel like I never get any work done on this ship, I’m always on that damn medical leave.

“By the way,” he adds, before he walks back out of the room. “Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov moved all of your things into your new quarters for you. I figured it’d be a good thing for you to thank them.”

“I…” I’m touched. “Wow. That was really nice of them. I’ll find them when I’m released.”

As it turns out, I don’t have to. They come in to visit later in the day, and I tell them how grateful I am for their help. They all say that it’s nothing, but I don’t think they realize how much it means to me, to have such good friends. The only downside is that now I don’t have an excuse to stay busy while on leave. Bones will order me to relax the whole time, and I’m not looking forward to it. Maybe I can convince Carol to keep me company while Spock’s on duty. Or I can just bug Bones the whole time. I’m sure he’d appreciate me checking in every five minutes. Maybe then he’ll let me return to duty early, though I highly doubt it. He likes to watch me suffer, I swear.

Spock helps me to my quarters the next day, and I take a moment to revel in the fact that Spock and I practically share the space, considering I can literally just walk through the bathroom to get to his room. I feel Spock’s fingers travel lightly down my arms and I shiver, fully aware of his body close behind me. I lean back into him, and his hands move from my arms to my waist, pulling me snug against him. His mouth skims my neck and I swallow hard. I turn in his arms so we’re facing each other, and I pull him down so I can press my lips to his. My eyes close and I cup his jaw in my hand, feeling the teeniest bit of stubble beneath my palm. Our lips are soft and fit perfectly together. I lean into him, and his back hits the wall softly behind us. He deepens the kiss, and soon we’re both gasping for breath. He tastes like cinnamon, and I’m warm from his body heat. Spock flips us around, pinning me between his body and the wall, and he kisses a path from my mouth down to my neck. He pushes me harder against the wall and suddenly everything freezes. Time slows down and my eyes fly open. I take in every single detail of the room simultaneously. My body kicks into overdrive, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Instincts take over, and everything stops.

My mind goes blank.

And suddenly Spock is standing ten feet away from me, his eyes wide and his mouth open slightly. I’m breathing hard, on the verge of hyperventilating, and I don’t know why. But then I remember.

_My eyes fly open. Everything stops. I reach down and shove his hands off of me. I break this man’s hold on me, blocking his attempts to grip my body again and I’m shoving him, hard, anything to just get him away from me. He takes a step forward, looking confused, and my hands come up in a defense position. I swing at him once, but he steps out of my reach, raising his hands in peace._

I look down at my clenched hands, still raised and held out in front of me. I watch them start to shake as I realize what I’ve done. My back’s still against the wall, and I slide down it until I’m sitting with my knees bent into my chest. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I lean my forehead against my kneecaps and take deep breaths. I force myself to stop shaking. Spock hasn’t moved, I know, because I would’ve heard him. He’s probably freaking out. “Shit.”

At my conjecture, I hear the carpet shuffle as he either comes closer or backs farther away. Right now, I don’t know which one I’d prefer. I hear him slide down the wall beside me, but he doesn’t touch me at all, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’m ashamed, mortified, and entirely fucked up. And because I’m so fucked up, I start to laugh. I laugh and I laugh until tears are leaking from my eyes and my side aches from laughing so much. Spock remains silent beside me and I’m wondering why he hasn’t left yet. I would've. He probably thinks I’m losing my mind. Hell, maybe I’ve already lost it. Who knows? I thought I could get past this. Other people have survived so much worse. Maybe I’m just weak. All I know is that this trauma has tried to take everything from me; my friends, my family, my job, and now the one person I’ve ever let myself love.

I finally shut up, and we lapse into another long moment of silence, which Spock breaks. “Let me help.”

“You don’t even know what’s wrong,” I point out, still not looking at him, though I’m proud of how normal my voice sounds. “You should be running for the hills.”

“There is nowhere else I would rather be,” he repeats his earlier words from the sickbay, and somehow that is exactly what I need to hear. I turn my head towards him, and finally meet his gaze. He’s sitting cross-legged and just out of reach, his expression honest and open. I don’t see any of the pity, fear, or disgust that I expect to see. His expression is pure concern. I shouldn’t have anticipated anything else. We’ve been through so much together; I don’t know why I thought this would scare him off. Despite the fact that we only recently started our relationship, I feel like we’ve been together for years, as if our souls recognize each other, like we’re destined to be together.

“I don’t know if I can say it aloud,” I admit in a half-whisper. His warm brown eyes soften, and he holds out a hand hesitantly.

“Allow me?” I nod, and move to sit in front of him. He tentatively places his fingers to the psi-points on my face. “My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts.”

Our minds connect slowly, like an intricate web being woven between us. Spock gently breaches the bridge joining us, and I show him everything. This is far more intense than the one previous meld we’ve shared. I open myself bare to him. I show him every horrid, terrible thing I’ve ever seen or felt or done, and I don’t hide anything. I let him feel what I’ve felt, what I feel every day. He relives with me my experience on Tarsus, the demon that prevents me from trusting, or loving, or being intimate with anyone. I tell him of how I killed a man to survive on that planet, something I left out of the story I told Bones. I let him see how guilt-ridden, broken, bruised, and battered I am on the inside, and how desperately I try to hide it, to convince myself I am okay. I let him be witness to my loneliness, my desire to have someone to hold on to. My fear of being left utterly alone for the rest of my life. I feel his acceptance of me, his acknowledgement to everything that I’ve been through. There’s sorrow, regret, remorse, sympathy, and pain outlining his reaction.

 _Jim_ , the thought is whispered in my mind.

 _Changed your mind yet?_ I wonder, scared to hear the response.

_Throughout my life, I have been educated to suppress emotion, to value self-control, discipline, and logic above all other aspects of my life. I have been ridiculed, bullied, and pushed into being a proper Vulcan by the people who view me as an abomination of our kind. I chose to enlist in Starfleet as a way to prove myself, to prove that I could be the perfect example to the rest of the multiverse of what a Vulcan is. I have prevented myself from establishing connections that go beyond what is acquired as part of my duty. And yet…I find that I do not care to suppress what I feel towards you. You need not fear that I will condemn you due to the terrors of your past._

In turn, he lets me pass through all of his memories as well. I see the love he feels towards his mother, the resentment and respect he has for his father. How hard it was to leave his mother behind and join the loneliness of Starfleet. I feel how ashamed he was about the love he felt towards I-Chaya, the pet sehlat he had as a child; how heartbroken he was when I-Chaya died saving his life. I see the bitterness directed towards his heritage, and his struggle to balance both halves of himself. I see his desire to be accepted, and to be a successful captain in the fleet. He wants to be respected, and loved. I see that he feels as much as any human; he just does his best to make sure no one sees. He’s done things he regrets, too, and he doesn’t hide them from me. I feel a torrent of understanding, support, affection, fondness, concern and…love flow through the bond from him, surrounding me in a delightful warmth that encompasses my whole being. He needs me as much as I need him. We’re two broken halves of a whole. The epiphany brings me up short.

_You…love me? Truly?_

_I did not wish to say what I was not sure to be true, but now I see that I have been foolish. This should have been made clear to you far earlier than today. However, yes, I do indeed feel great love for you, Jim Kirk._

_Holy shit._ I feel his amusement through our connection. _This is nice,_ I tell him. _I like the way this feels, having you in my head._

 _It is an intimate act between Vulcans, to establish a meld solely for pleasure._ I sense that he wants to say more, but is for some reason reluctant.

_What is it, Spock?_

_There…is a Vulcan ritual for the joining of two minds. It is called koon-ut kal-if-fee. It is when two people are brought together as one. In Terran customs, it is similar to what you call marriage. It would create a link between our minds in which we could always sense each other. It allows for emotional transference and communication across distance. I had one, once, with a Vulcan female named T’Pring. It was terminated when it was made obvious that it was unsatisfactory to us both. I would be honored to share this with you. If this is something you desire in our future, I would not object._

_Are you proposing to me?_

_If that is how you would prefer to view it, then affirmative._

_You don’t think it’s too soon?_

_Jim, my_ katra _calls to thee. You are t’hy’la. I am certain that I would like to be by your side, if you wish it so._

_T’hy’la? What does that mean?_

_It has no adequate translation into Standard. The closest approximations are friend, brother, or lover. Its true meaning goes far deeper. Another similar term would be ‘soul mates’._

_Wow._

_I apologize, Jim. I am not familiar with Terran customs. Is this too much to process at this time?_

_No, God, Spock no, I just…can’t believe your willing to be so committed to me._

_I am._

_Could you do the ritual thing now? Like, right now, in our heads?_

_No. It would be necessary to travel to Vulcan for the official ceremony to be performed. However, a rudimentary bond is necessary to become telsu—bonded. That is accomplished quite easily. Two minds must simply be compatible and reach out for each other, as ours do._

_Can you do that to us?_

_Are you certain, Jim? I do not want you to misunderstand; a telsu bond is a life-long commitment. It can be broken, but only at the cost of both participants, and a great deal of pain. There are also elements of Vulcan culture that I cannot explain at present for it can only be discussed during a specific time. You must not rush into a decision. I strongly recommend you ponder over this for a longer period of time._

_Trust me, Spock, I feel this too. It isn’t even a decision for me. I just know this is right for us. I’m in, all the way. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be._

_If you are certain._

_I am._

_Then I shall form the link._

I feel him reach deeper into my mind, until his thought tendrils brush the very core of my being. I can’t help it; I gasp, pleasure and acceptance flowing throughout my entire body. He threads our essences together, and I feel complete for the first time in my life, like I’d been missing a piece of myself forever and only just now noticed.

_Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched._

Spock pulls out of my mind and I open my eyes, disoriented but pleased to see him blushing green in front of me. I can feel his presence in the back of my mind, just out of reach but still tickling my thoughts. “It will be more firmly established during the ceremony,” Spock informs me, and I place a hand to his face.

“I can’t wait.”

He stands and pulls me to my feet as well. He places a slow, chaste kiss on my lips and then steps away from me. “I can sense your fatigue, Jim. You should rest.”

“I’m not going to be able to hide anything from you, am I?”

“Negative,” he says, and his lips turn up slightly in the grin that he always reserves just for me.

“Damn,” I move over to the bed and sprawl out. “Care to join me?”

“Negative,” he says, but eyes me wistfully. “I must report to the bridge. I will contact my ancestor, T’Pau, and set a course for Vulcan immediately.”

I yawn. “That sounds great,” I tell him truthfully. “But I still wish you could nap with me.”

“We have the rest of our lives,” he reminds me, which is not entirely true because he will outlive me, but I don’t dwell on it because it would sour my mood.

“In that case, I guess it can wait.” He comes over to touch my fingers in a Vulcan kiss and then goes to leave the room.

Before he’s completely gone I call out to stop him. “Spock, wait.”

“Yes, Jim?”

“You called me ashayam on Organia. What does that mean?”

“Beloved,” he smiles, and leaves to report to the bridge.


	13. Till Death Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Jim get bonded on Vulcan, and Jim has to break the news to his parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF <3 Hope you enjoy. Please, please, please, comments are so appreciated.

“We should arrive at Vulcan in 7. 37 days,” Spock informs me later today, at the end of his shift. We’re sitting together on the bed, him finishing the day’s reports and me reading along with my head on his shoulder. They’re mainly about nonsense: crew transfers, equipment updates, repairs, etc. Nothing that really needs his full attention at the moment, so I pluck the PADD from his hands and lay it on the other side of me. He looks at me quizzically, and I give him a stern look.

“Quit trying to hide behind your work,” I chastise.

“I do not understand.”

“Yeah, you do,” I roll my eyes and tap my temple. “I can feel you in here, remember. I know you’re worried I’ll change my mind about this, but I won’t.”

He doesn’t meet my eyes. “Humans often promise commitment before knowing the full extent of which they are agreeing to. It is not uncommon for them to change their opinions about their wants and needs.”

“Okay, but this is something more than that. It’s not just some passing fling. Spock, hey,” I grab his face and turn it towards me, forcing him to meet my gaze. I see poorly disguised fear lurking in his eyes. “I’m serious, okay? Can’t you sense that I’m crazy about you?”

“Emotions often fluctuate, Jim. Your current state of mind is not definite.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you,” I grin mischievously, and capture his bottom lip between both of mine. He responds half-heartedly at first, but once I climb onto his lap, he returns the kiss hungrily, and it’s an awkward clash of teeth and lips and tongue, but it’s us, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I trace the line of his pointed ears and open my eyes, just to find that he’s watching me as well. His thumbs are rubbing circles into my ribcage, and I lock my arms around his neck, rolling and pulling us both down so that he's lying on top of me. We break apart for a moment, chests heaving, and he leans down to brush his lips gently against mine as the com whistles from the wall. “Bridge to Commander Kirk. Commander, is the captain with you?” Sulu’s voice fills the room, and I start to laugh at his impeccably horrible timing.

Spock drops forehead to my shoulder and gives a soft sigh before rolling off of me and walking over to the wall, straightening his command shirt. “Spock here, what is it helmsman?”

“Just wanted to confirm the orders to change course to Vulcan, sir? I wasn’t aware we were due for a visit there.”

“Orders confirmed, Lt.” He turns to look at me.

“We’ll have to tell them, you know,” I whisper so my voice won’t carry into the speaker.

“Lt, have yourself, Ensign Chekov, Lt. Uhura, Dr. McCoy, Mr. Scott, and Dr. Marcus report to debriefing room one in ten minutes. Spock out.” He walks back over to the bed and I prop myself on one elbow, looking up at him.

“How is this ceremony going to happen, anyways? I mean, do I need to do something special or specific to your culture?” I ask, realizing I am completely unfamiliar with what I am about to go through.

“Negative. It will be extremely brief. The head of my clan, T’Pau, will conduct the ceremony. My parents, and whoever we chose to accompany us, will stand around as witnesses as T’Pau links us fully. There will little speaking on our part, only assent to the bonding of our minds.”

“What do I…wear?”

“I will give you a Vulcan robe.” He raises an eyebrow at my expression. “Is there a problem?”

“What? No, no problem. Just…nervous, I guess.” I grin at him reassuringly. “It’s a customary tradition for humans to experience nerves before their wedding. It means they’re excited.”

“That is not logical. Why should you be anxious over an occurrence that you are anticipating?”

“Love isn’t logical,” I remind him, “And yet you love me.”

“Indeed,” he says, and I laugh.

“Don’t worry, I share your regard.”

He feigns a confused look. “You harbor amorous feelings towards yourself as well?”

I kiss his cheek. “Shut up, Spock. You know what I meant.”

He gives me a rare smile and gestures to the door. “We must inform our friends of the ceremony.”

“Indeed,” I say in a poor imitation of him, and laugh at his indignant expression. Taking his hand, I drag him out of the door and down the hallway towards the debriefing room. When we walk in with our hands clasped between us, I see Carol and Nyota share a smug look. I roll my eyes and look at Carol pointedly, daring her to make a comment. I can’t wait to hear what she has to say after our announcement. I look at Spock, expecting him to take the lead, but he looks as though he doesn’t know how to begin. Clearing my throat, I let go of Spock’s hand and take a step forward.

“You are all aware that we are en route to Vulcan, correct?” I ask, and everyone nods except Bones, who simply raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms. “Okay, then. You’re probably wondering why.” Another round of nods. I place a hand on Spock’s shoulder, and squeeze reassuringly. “Spock and I have decided to get bonded.”

Nyota claps her hands together happily, and comes around the table to give us both a tight hug, and kisses Spock’s cheek. Carol lets out a squeal and all but vaults over the table in order to grab me in a bear hug. I laugh at her enthusiasm and squeeze her back. Sulu, Scotty, and Chekov come over to offer their congratulations and clap us on the back. I notice that Hikaru and Pavel are standing extremely close to each other, and I give them both knowing glances over Carol—who still hasn’t released me—and note how they both blush and bump their shoulders together. I smile, because I totally called that one ages ago and have been dropping not-so-subtle hints to both of them about how they’d be perfect together. I look around for Bones, and see that he’s still sitting at the table as if in shock. I manage to pry myself from Carol’s grasp, and she launches into the conversation Spock and Nyota are having about the ceremony while the guys are talking about the bachelor party. I roll my eyes and make my way over to where Bones is at, and plop down into the seat next to him. I wave my hand sarcastically in front of his face to get his attention, and he glares at me, but I can tell he doesn’t really mean it. He gives me a genuine smile. “I’m happy for you, kid.”

“Then why are you over here sitting by yourself?”

“It’s a lot to take in,” he says defensively. “I just don’t want you to get hurt the way I did.”

“I won’t,” I tell him certainly. “I know this is right Bones, I feel it. Right down to my very core.”

“You should’ve been a poet, Jim,” he teases, and I punch him in the leg. “Hey, watch it! I may be old but I can still kick your ass.”

“You’re not that old, Bones.” I remind him, and give him a meaningful look, and then turn my attention to Carol, who’s waving her hands frantically in the air for some reason.

He picks up on the gesture and fidgets, turning a shade of red and mumbling something under his breath. “She won’t wait forever, Bones. It’s been over a year, and you spent months before that dancing around each other.”

“I know, I know,” he grumbles. “I’ve thought about it, believe me. I just need a little more time. She understands that.”

“This time won’t be like the last one,” I tell him. “She’s nothing like Jocelyn.”

He barks out a laugh. “Hell, don’t I know it.” Carol sits down next to him and he laces his fingers with hers. “Speak of the devil.”

“Look who’s talking,” she retorts, but her eyes are twinkling. “Jim, what’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look anxious.”

“I’m getting married,” I say exasperatedly. “And I have to meet his parents.”

“What are you, twelve? Quit being stupid.” Bones rolls his eyes, as Carol says, “Jim, for God’s sake, they’ll love you!”

“You’re right,” I tell them both. “It’s just a lot to take in.” Bones narrows his eyes at my echo of his earlier words, and I get up to see what the three guys are up to. I walk up and hear “belly shots” and change my course, heading over to Spock instead.

“We’re going to have to put a stop to that,” I say, nodding my head towards the guys. Nyota frowns, and goes over to monitor their conversation. She puts her hands on her hips and makes a comment, and they scatter, and she turns to give us a triumphant look. I look at Spock. “She’s handy to keep around.”

“Indeed, she is a remarkable woman.”

“They both are,” I say, as we watch her join Carol at the table. “We’re lucky to have such great people in our lives.”

            He touches two fingers to mine, and I wrap my fingers around his eagerly. I stand on my toes and put my lips right against his ear. “Captain, I believe we have unfinished business to attend to.” Again, I’m not suggesting sex, since we’re technically not married yet. But Sulu interrupted a pretty intense moment earlier that I’m sure we would be able to recapture. As I lean away from him, I get the satisfaction of watching him swallow.

            “I believe you are correct. Perhaps we should retire for the evening.”

            “I mean, if that’s what you want…” I tease playfully. He gives me a look, and I wave my hand around to get everyone’s attention. “Hey, we’re going to back to our rooms. We would appreciate it if you all would accompany us to the planet’s surface to watch the ceremony.”

            “When is it taking place?” Sulu asks, and I notice he has his arm around Chekov.

            “Precisely one Standard week from today,” Spock replies, and they all nod and say good night. When we get back to the room, Spock all but throws me onto the bed, and I laugh as his lips meet mine.

 

            One week later, I’m standing in my quarters, fiddling with the fastenings on the robe Spock gave me. He comes in from his own quarters, and comes to help me because I’m obviously struggling. “Allow me,” he says softly, and his long fingers deftly secure the robe in place. I walk into the bathroom to inspect how I look, and I have to say it’s something else. My robe is dark green, with coppery colored markings lining the sleeves and the hem. The green hue of the robe makes my bright blue eyes really stand out. It wraps around my body similar to a kimono, and though it looks like the fabric would be stifling, especially in Vulcan’s hot climate, it is light and flowing, and allows air to pass through it nicely. It’s weird not wearing pants, but hey, I’m not complaining. I mess with my hair real quick and straighten my glasses and then head back into my room.

            I really look at Spock for the first time today, and he’s stunning. He’s wearing a robe similar to the one he wore when we first played chess, but that was a bathrobe compared to the one adorning him now. It’s a deep, rich chocolate, the exact color of his eyes, with similar markings to mine, but in gold, following the folds and lines of the fabric. He’s all sharp lines and slim figure, his dark features the perfect contrast to my light. I walk over to him and place my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close so I can feel his mouth. He tastes like the strawberries we ate for breakfast, and my eyes flutter close in contentment. It’s a perfect moment for a perfect day. God, I’m such a sap.

            We break apart and I smile warmly at him. “Ready to go?”

            “Of course.” We leave the room, conscious of the many faces gathered to see our departure. Our group is waiting for us in the transporter room, and Carol’s eyes well up with tears when she takes us both in.

            “No crying,” I warn, and she pushes me good-naturedly. We get onto the pad and the ensign manning the controls flips the switch on Spock’s order. We materialize on the planet’s surface, and the first thing I notice is the heat. I’m glad I’m wearing the robe, because if I wasn’t, I’d surely be sweating profusely. A light breeze ruffles my hair, and Spock leads the way down a long dirt path towards a towering structure of rocks. The sand is pale beneath our feet, but the blood-red sky reflects upon it, giving it an orange sort of glow. The sun is brighter than Earth’s, and we have to shield our eyes until the path winds and puts it to our backs. We come to a Stonehenge, and Spock leads us down the stairs into the middle of the stone towers. He positions our group in a semicircle behind us, and guides me to stand beside him. I hear a low sound coming from out right, and after a moment it is made clear that it is traditional Vulcan drums. I also hear a sound like a tambourine, and when the entourage escorting T’Pau comes near, I see the instruments for myself. Four large Vulcans carry a high-backed seat, in which T’Pau sits. T’Pau looks like an ancient goddess, beautiful, cold, and frightening with her dark hair piled on her head, and her calculating gaze taking us all in. Trailing behind the escort is an older Vulcan man, and a human woman. Spock’s parents, I realize, and I straighten my posture. The men set T’Pau’s chair onto the ground, and kneel around her. Spock’s parents join the semi-circle behind us.

She rises from the chair and holds out her hands, and the instruments stop. Spock bows slightly, and I follow suit. She touches both our foreheads lightly like a blessing. “Your minds are kindred spirits. What is about to occur comes down from the time of our beginning, without change. This is the Vulcan heart; this is the Vulcan soul. This is our way: Kah-if-farr.

“Do you wish to be made telsu?” She turns to me, and raises an eyebrow.

“Absolutely.”

“Do you wish it also, Spock?” She asks.

“Indeed, T’Pau.”

“Then it shall be done.” She places her hands on the melding points on both Spock and I. “You must say the ancient words, and reach for each other’s minds.”

Spock looks at me, and says, “I cherish thee.”

“I cherish thee,” I echo, and reach for the bond in the back of my head. I feel him do the same, and suddenly we’re falling into each other’s thoughts with more power than I ever thought possible. I vaguely register T’Pau’s presence in my head as well, but it is overshadowed by the enormity of the connection between me and Spock. Lights and colors and feelings and emotions swirl around my mind, making me dizzy and elated at the same time. I see a silver cord, like a lifeline, weaving its way between our mindscapes, tying us together permanently, and stronger than the meager link we had shared before. I’m suddenly brought back to awareness in my body with harsh abruptness, and I can feel Spock reeling beside me as well.

“You are t’hy’la,” T’Pau murmurs so only we can hear. “Stronger than I’ve ever seen before.” Louder, she directs her voice to everyone in the clearing. “It is done.” The drums start up again and she motions for us to get to our feet, which I do somewhat unsteadily. We touch our fingers in the ozh’esta. Everyone claps and Carol lets out a loud cheer. They come over to embrace me, though not Spock because it’s considered rude in public; they offer him verbal congratulations instead. I feel a light touch on my shoulder and turn to see Spock’s mom, Amanda Grayson, standing behind me.

“Hello, ma’am,” I say, somewhat nervously. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” I hold out a tentative hand, and she takes me by surprise by pulling me into a tight hug instead.

“I hope you make my son happy,” she says into my ear, and I return the embrace willingly.

“I will try to do so for the rest of my life,” I promise her. “It’s all I want for him.”

“Then welcome to the family,” she says, with a twinkle in her eyes. “Though I think you’ll find they aren’t as accustomed to hugging as I am.”

“No, ma’am, I doubt they are.”

“Call me Amanda, please.”

“I’m Jim,” I say with a smile, and she nods.

“I know. Spock has mentioned you often.”

I beam, and I turn to see Sarek inspecting me. “Ambassador, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“I trust you are a good match for my son,” he responds.

“Indeed, Father.” Spock injects. “He is who I have chosen.”

“Very well, then I welcome thee, James Kirk.”

“Thank you, sir,” I incline my head. Amanda invites us to their dwelling for supper, which we accept, and the rest of the evening passes by wonderfully. Amanda prepared homemade plomeek soup, which is even better than I suspected it would be. As dinner draws to a close and the conversations simmer down, Spock announces it is time for us to return to the ship. He gives the customary ta’al to his father, which I copy, and we both embrace his mother before departing. When we beam aboard the ships, there are many cheers and congratulations from the hundreds of crew members, and by the time we finally get back to our quarters, I’m exhausted. I mean, not too exhausted, of course, especially when Spock locks the door and pulls me close to him, covering my mouth with his and pulling me to the bed. I have trouble undoing his robes, which makes me laugh and bury my face in his shoulder. The rest of the night is spent in an awkward tangle of limbs and passion and, most importantly, love, and everything’s heightened from the fully developed bond between us. The night is bliss, I know for certain that this is the best day of my life.

 

I wake up the next morning curled into Spock’s side, with his arm holding me against him. I’m glad we decided to sleep in my quarters, because Spock’s are always about ten degrees warmer, and I would no doubt have been burning alive from his excessive body heat. I stare at him as he sleeps, which I guess could be considered creepy but I’d rather think of it as romantic. His face loses all of its sharp lines when he’s asleep. He looks relaxed in a way that he never does when he’s conscious, and I find it rather adorable. I don’t want to wake him up, since he looks so peaceful, but he’s holding on to me so tightly that  I can’t get up and if I don’t pee _right now_ my bladder might explode. So I lean forward and kiss his lips lightly, hoping the pressure will awaken him. It does; his eyes flutter open and he looks sleepy and so goddamn cute with his hair all ruffled that I almost can’t stand it. I kiss him once more and then take advantage of his loosened grip on me, and climb out of bed to use the rest room. I also grab a pair of shorts to put on and throw him a pair so this won’t get awkward because I’m me and I’ll totally make it awkward if we just sit around naked.

When I come out of the bathroom, I see that I’d given Spock a pair of my old Earth basketball shorts instead of his pair of pants and I crack up, because Spock in basketball shorts is freaking hilarious, okay? He scowls at me half-heartedly, but I can feel through the bond that he’s amused. We just kind of stare at each other for a moment, neither one of us knowing what to say, so I break the silence. “So last night was fun.” Jesus Christ Kirk, really? That’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth?

Spock smiles, “Indeed.” I wink to hide my embarrassment, even though I know it’s pointless due to the link between us.

“So, uh…” I scratch the back of my head awkwardly. “I kind of haven’t told my parents yet.”

Spock’s eyebrows shoot into his disheveled hairline. “Why have you not?”

“My mom would’ve tried to talk me out of it,” I admit. “Not because of you, but because she thinks I should focus on my career. She doesn’t think I’m ready for a serious commitment like this, no matter how many times I’ve tried to explain to her how I feel about you.” I talk to my mom and dad at least once a month, and my mom calls me way more frequently than that, at least once a week, despite the fact that she’s working on her own starship. My dad’s the captain of the USS Kelvin, so he doesn’t have as much leisure time as mom does to talk. I’ve always been closer to my dad, just as Sam’s always been closer to Mom. Dad’s always been more understanding and soft-spoken while Mom’s like a tornado, always trying to push her way into everything. I’d told Sam and Aurelan about the ceremony, and though they weren’t able to make it, they sent their sincerest love and congrats. Now I have to face my mother. “I didn’t want her to make a huge deal out of this, you know? I just wanted it to be about us and what we want.”

“I understand, Jim,” he says softly and quickly puts on a shirt. “We can hail them together.”

I tell the computer to hail my father while Spock comes over to take my hand, and luckily I catch my dad at a time when he’s not busy. “Jim! It’s great to hear from you, son. It’s been a while. How are you?” He smiles kindly at me, I knew I made the right decision to call him before Mom.

“Dad, I’m doing great. You’ve met Spock.”

“Ah, yes, the boyfriend.” Dad winks. “How are you, Spock? Doing well, I hope?”

“Spectacularly, Mr. Kirk. I hope the same for yourself?”

“Yes, yes, though things are going pretty slowly around here, for once.” He peers at me through the screen. “I can see you’ve got something on your mind, son. Go ahead and spill the beans.” He’s always been able to read my uncannily.

“Well, Spock’s not exactly…I mean…uh..” I stutter, not really sure how to say it. My dad’s never ridiculed me or for being gay, never shown anything except for support, but for some reason I’ve always been awkward talking to him about it.

“Jim and I have established a Vulcan mating bond,” Spock supplies, and I kind of choke on the air.

Captain George Kirk starts laughing, the bastard, though it certainly eases my tension. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, Jim?” His laughter dies down and he looks at me, suddenly serious. “Does he make you happy?”

“Absolutely,” I say with clarity.

“Then why do you look so damn nervous? How could I be anything other than happy for you? You know I love you no matter what, kid.” He gives us both a warm smile. “Congrats.” A red alert goes off in the background of his transmission, and he leaps out of his chair. “Finally! Some excitement!” He winks at me. “Sorry to cut this sort boys, but I’ve got a ship to run. Until next time,” he salutes, and then the screen goes blank. I feel elated after my dad’s reaction, and I feel Spock’s assent. But then I think about Mom and dread pools in my stomach.

We set up the video feed for the second time and wait for her to respond. I know she’s off duty, because she’s sent me her schedule so I know when I should call. She’s met Spock once before, after we first got together, and while she approves of the man I love, she doesn’t want me to rush into anything. God, she’s going to have a field day. As the screen starts to flicker, I squeeze Spock’s hand tightly, and he returns the pressure.

“Jim! Oh sweetie, it’s good to see you.” Her bright face appears on screen, beautiful even despite the wrinkles around her eyes. She must have been working on a project, because her face is smeared with grease and her hair is falling out of a ponytail. “Sorry, dear, my shift ran later that I thought so I’m kind of a mess.” She notices Spock standing beside me. “Oh, hello Spock, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“Mrs. Kirk, it is my pleasure.” He responds, giving her the ta’al with the hand that’s not holding mine.

My mom goes on to ramble about some engineering thing that normally I would find fascinating, but right now the longer I wait to tell her the more nervous I feel. “Mom, Mom,” I cut her off mid-sentence. She looks annoyed, but right now I really don’t care. “Sorry, but I hailed you for a reason. I—we—have something to tell you.”

Her face takes on a worried expression. “What happened, Jim? Are you okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah. Yeah, I’m better than okay, Mom, I’m fantastic.” I hold up our interlaced fingers. “I just…Spock and I got bonded.” Mom doesn’t know much about Vulcan culture, but this is probably the most popular piece of knowledge about the Vulcans: their telepathic abilities and the strange way they pick their partners.

Her mouth falls open and she stares, bewildered, and is silent for a very long time. When she finally gets a hold of her thoughts, her face takes on an odd expression. “Did your father know about this?”

“I called him right before you.”

“Sam?”

I wince. “I told him a week ago.”

“Jim, may I talk to you privately, please?”

“Uh, no?” I say, insulted that she would even ask. That is so rude, especially since it’s pretty clear that she disapproves of our relationship and just doesn’t want to offend Spock.

            “Jim, please,” she says pointedly, but I stand my ground.

            “Nope.” Spock sends a wave of support through our connection, and I respond with gratitude.

            She sighs. “Fine. Well, I think you both made a huge mistake.”

            Her comment angers me, even though I saw it coming. “How can you even say that to me, to us? Can’t you see how happy I am? Don’t you want what’s best for me?”

            “Jim, sweetheart, I do want what’s best for you. That’s why I’m saying this.”

            “ _Spock_ is what’s best for me,” and I tighten my hold on him as proof.

            “You may think so now, dear, but what about in ten years? Twenty? Can you even look ahead that far? He’s your captain. What happens when you have to choose between him and the ship?”

            “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” I tell her. “And when we do, we’ll do it together.

            “Jim…” She starts, but I interrupt her.

            “No, Mom. This conversation is over. I just wanted you to know.” I shut off the transmission and take a long, deep breath. Spock releases my hand and wraps his arm around my waist instead, pulling me close to him. I rest my forehead against his.

            “That went great,” I sigh. “Just as I thought it would.”

            “Her opinion has no bearing on our relationship,” he murmurs.

            “I know, I just wish she could support one decision I make. She argued with my choice of career. She disagreed on which starship I wanted to be assigned to. She doesn’t approve of any of my relationships. She thinks Bones is a bad influence on me, which may or may not be true, but he’s a good man. I’m in my twenties and she still thinks she can micromanage my life.”

            “All will be well, Jim.” He says, and rubs light circles into my back. I lean forward and kiss him.

            “With you, it will be.”


	14. One Who Walks the Path of Danger Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew orbit Orela, a highly religious planet with two native peoples feuding over a misunderstanding.

It’s been six months since our bonding, and we’re about halfway through our five-year mission. Lots of missions have gone down in the past months, but none worth repeating, and many of them I’d rather not relive. They usually end up with me in sickbay from either jumping in front of Spock—purely out of duty, mind you—or eating some native food that I shouldn’t, and it causes me to have an allergic reaction. Spock gets irritated with me, obviously, and is constantly telling me I have a martyr complex, and when I try to explain that it only applies when he’s doing something stupid it ends in an argument about who gets injured more. So we ask Bones, and he tells us that we’re both idiots and to stop bothering him in the sickbay. This happens after almost every mission.

            Today, I’m off duty and Spock’s on the bridge, so I decide to sit down and read the new book I acquired at the last Starbase. It’s called _To Kill a Mockingbird_ by Harper Lee, and I’m really looking forward to starting it. I curl up on the couch, opening the front cover, and I begin to read. It captures my attention instantly, and I lose myself in the story until Spock’s shift ends. By the time he enters my quarters, I’m almost half way through the novel. I excitedly tell him about the characters and the plot, like I do after every book I read, and he listens attentively. Sometimes I wonder if he gets bored of my recounts, but whenever I ask him about it, he always assures me that he enjoys watching how animated I get whilst talking about the books. “This ‘Scout’ character seems to share a great deal of your characteristics.”

            I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

            “You described her as impulsive, curious, intelligent, and,” he adds drily, “has a fragrant disregard for the rules.”

            I take a throw pillow from the couch and chuck it at him playfully, which he dodges and looks affronted by my assault. I grin wickedly, and pick up another to throw. He holds a hand out to me. “Jim, cease.”

            “Nope,” I say, popping the ‘p’ with my lips. I throw a second pillow at him, which he catches and throws right back, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. I love it when he’s like this, when he doesn’t try to fight his human side and is just himself with no pretenses. I don’t want him to pretend to be someone he’s not when he’s around me. I throw the pillow again and he moves out of its path, and it smashes into a cup of water sitting on my desk, spilling the liquid everywhere. I still have two pillows left as ammunition. I pick up another one and take my aim. “Jim, cease!” He implores again, but I can sense that he’s amused.

            “You’re going to have to come over here and make me,” I wiggle my eyebrows and him and he rolls his eyes. I take the opportunity, his lapse in concentration allowing me to nail him right in the nose. He blinks for a second, surprised, as I fall over on the couch laughing. He narrows his eyes at me dangerously and stalks over to the couch. “Oh shit, oh shit,” I say breathlessly as I try to scramble out of his reach, but it’s no use. He grabs me around the waist and throws me over his shoulder, walking to the bed and then dumping me haphazardly onto it. I pull him down with me and we wrestle for a moment, each one of us fighting to get the upper hand. Obviously, due to his superior strength, he wins, pinning me down to the bed with his knees and hands. I still try to escape, laughing breathlessly at the situation as he grins down at me. He leans down and brushes he mouth against the slope of my neck, and then turns the gentle caress into a teasing bite. The mood shifts, and I feel the edges of panic starting to creep into the corners of my mind. I struggle with it, trying to push it down before my body takes over. It’s Spock, I remind myself. Just Spock. He would never hurt me. We were just playing around.

            I still beneath his hands and let down the mental barriers we’ve both learned to put up over the last couple of months, just so that we aren’t always bombarded with each other’s thoughts. We can sense each other and communicate through them, but unwanted information or sensory input can’t force its way through.  Spock senses that I’m on the verge of freaking out, and he releases me immediately, putting himself on the other side of the room for my sake. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths until I’ve got myself under control. I sit up and clear my throat, meeting his eyes across the room. “Sorry about that,” I mutter. “I’m not really sure what happened.”

            He gauges my emotions, and then crosses the space between us to stand beside the bed. He runs a hand through my hair and I turn towards his touch, leaning my shoulder against his hip. “Do not apologize. No blame lies within you.”

            “One of these times I’m going to turn violent,” I say, frustration coloring my tone. “I need to learn to control this.”

            “Or we will just refrain from putting you in situations which stimulate the reaction.”

            “We weren’t even doing anything wrong!” I take off my glasses and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Spock, what if I were to injure you?”

            “I would not let it escalate to that point, Jim. Also, I do not believe you could truly hurt me if you did not want to.”

            “Well, I definitely don’t want to, so let’s hope that theory holds true.” I grab the hand running through my hair and press it to my cheek. Turning my head, I press a soft kiss into his palm. “I love you,” I murmur, looking up into his brown eyes.

Affection and tenderness flow in the bond between us. “And I, you.” He smiles and pulls away, walking to the replicator to make some sort of food. I don’t even really pay attention to what it is, and I’m not really hungry. I eat it mainly for his sake, because he would worry if I didn’t. We spend the rest of the night finishing up on reports and then climb into bed, lying against each other comfortably and drifting off to sleep.

            We assume orbit around Orela, and we have orders to resolve hostile relations between the two native peoples, the Jaiets, and the Retes. The people of Orela are extremely religious, and worship their belief of their god, Arethos, above all else. It is not much different than human conceptions of God, though their devotion towards the deity is far more extreme than anything in Earth’s history, even the devout Roman Catholics who during the medieval times burned heretics at the stake. Jaiets consider themselves to be Arethos’ angels, sent to Orela for the sole purporse of living out their lives in pleasure and luxury and bliss. They are usually characterized by large frames, tan skin, blond hair and blue eyes, and they _never_ intermix with the Retes unless waging war. They view Retes as the spawn of their equivalent of the devil, Esipherus. They fear that the Retes are there to spark sin within their community, much like the story of the snake in Eden’s garden.

            Retes, on the other hand, see things quite differently. Although they most commonly have dark features, with lean, tall bodies, they consider themselves to be humble servants of Arethos, and view the Jaiets to be avenging angels coming to punish them for their sins. The population of Retes is split, however. Some are frightened of the Jaiets, and try everything in their power to keep harmony. The others feel that they are mistreated by the Jaiets, and want to fight back. The disunity between the Retes makes them vulnerable to Jaiet attacks, and the planet is being destroyed during their constant and bloody wars. Both civilizations are crumbling due to the massive decrease in their populations. The planet has not yet reached the point of industrialization, so we must take care not to reveal our true identities to the natives. The Enterprise is supposed to beam down to the planet and attempt to establish peace negotiations without directly interfering with their cultures. We can’t violate the Prime Directive, after all.

            Spock decides that Bones and Chekov will beam down in a landing party with us: Bones in case there are injured people that need his help and Chekov because of his extensive history of the planet. We dress in native clothing, and decide to visit the main city of the Jaiets first, because we anticipate they will be the more stubborn of the two peoples. I’m going to take the lead on this mission, mainly because I look the most like a Jaiet. Bones and Chekov can pass off easily enough; they’re both tan skinned with hazel eyes. Spock, however, there’s no pretending. He’s going to assume the role as a peaceful Rete, hoping to establish harmony between the two groups.

            We beam down to a secured remote location, and travel on foot from there towards the Jaiet civilization. The nature we see around us alarms me. It’s baron, although according to the ship it should’ve been full of grass and trees. The grass is dead; most of the trees have been cut down, and the ones that do remain are seriously malnourished. As a scientist, my heart goes out to the planet. As a diplomat, I’m determined to settle this feud now.

            We make our way into the city, and no one really pays us any mind. I stop a young mother on the street and ask where the leader resides. She gives me an odd look, sort of like I’ve lost my mind—I’m used to that one—but points us in the right direction. It’s a large hut in the center of the city, which now seems an obvious place for it to be located. There’s a makeshift wooden door, and as I approach it I flash back ten years earlier, to a different wooden hut, and I have to shake myself to bring my attention back to the present. I feel concern flow through the bond, and I push back reassurance as I bring my hand up to knock on the door.

            A large man with a strawberry-blonde beard opens the door, and I have to look up in order to meet his eyes. Curse my shortness; my head only comes up to his shoulder. “Can I help you?” He asks cordially, and gives me a once over.

            “I think it would be better if we explained the situation somewhere more private, sir, if it isn’t too much of an inconvenience.” I say, and he looks at me curiously.

            “Of course, please come in. You may call me Osiris.” He steps aside to allow us access to his home, and I walk in cautiously, on my guard despite his hospitable demeanor. There are feathered pillows gathered around a small table, and he gestures for us to sit. We oblige, and he watches me, waiting for me to speak.

            “My name is James, sir, and we’re nomads that live outside of the city.”

            “Are you Retes,” he asks warily, eyeballing Spock in particular.

            “No, no,” I reassure him. “We are clan-less. We are neither Jaiet nor Rete, but we still worship the Holy Father.”

            “Then what are you doing in my city?” Osiris asks, but it isn’t hostile, merely inquisitive.

            “You see, sir, we have a problem. There’s…” I’m interrupted when a little toddler comes waddling into the room, asking for ‘Papi’. She runs right over to Osiris, and begs to be taken in his arms. He gives me an apology and calls for his wife, Risa. She’s a young, pretty woman, but I’m surprised to see she has dark brown hair to accompany her blue eyes. I wouldn’t have thought the leader of the Jaiets would marry someone with such a dark feature. She scoops the little girl into her arms and leaves the room hurriedly. I assume it’s because women are not to intervene in their men’s affairs. I wonder what Carol would have to say about that.

            “There’s an appalling shortage of wood for our people, sir. We are slowly dying from the lack of shelter.” To be honest, I’m making this up as I go, which probably isn’t the best strategy, but it’s the best I’ve got.

            “How do you expect me to help you with this?” Osiris wonders.

            “The shortage of wood is due to the fighting between your people and the Retes. I’ve received a message from the Holy Father, Arethos himself. He commanded me to come to you personally and beg for the fighting to stop. The two groups do not have to intermix. They merely must stop destroying this planet. This is our Father’s wish.” I’m 99.9% certain he’s going to see right through my bullshit. I can see Bones rolling his eyes at me from his seat. Even Chekov looks like he expects shit to hit the fan any second. Only Spock sits normally, and I can feel his confidence in me that my plan will work.

            It does. Holy shit. “Our Father spoke directly to you?” Osiris whispers dramatically, and it would have been funny in a different situation.

            I nod solemnly. “He directly expressed his wish for peace.”

            “If that is the Holy Father’s wish, then it shall be done,” he declares, rising from his pillow. “I will tell the—“

            The front door of the hut slams open, and a team of five men with canvas masks barge in, spears raised and ready to kill. The first four direct their weapons towards us, and the other rushes down the hallway. Osiris roars and tries to follow, but the other men hold him off with their spears. A man approaches me, attempting to drive his spear into my ribcage, but I deflect the blow with my elbow, and land a kick to his chest. He falls back, and I see Spock fending off his own guy as well. The guy comes at me again, this time trying to slice my chest, and I jump back, knocking over the table. I duck his next swing and punch him right in the nose, then drop low to sweep his legs out from under him. A horrible scream fills my eardrums, and my heart drops, making me freeze. The man uses the opportunity to get to his feet and retreat. The scream cuts off abruptly, and as soon as it stops, the intruders bolt, taking off out the door and instead of giving chase, Osiris charges down the hallway. I follow cautiously, despite Spock shaking his head vigorously. Osiris is cradling his wife in his arms, and although there is blood pooling around her, she seems to be alive. “Bones!” I call, and he comes rushing down the hallway. He pushes his way past and runs over to their side, checking her over.

            “It’s just a slight head wound,” he assures Osiris. “She’ll be right as rain in no time.”

            “They took my daughter.” Osiris says, his voice deadly low. “I will kill every single last one of them until I once again hold her in my arms.” He lays his wife into Bones’ willing hands, and he stands, looking lethal. He tries to walk past me, but I block his path. Spock sends warning signals in my head, but I ignore him.

            “Wait, Osiris,” I plead, and I seem to capture his attention. “Let us rescue your daughter.”

            “Why would I do that?” He snarls, and I take a step back.

            “So that we can alert the Retes to the Holy Father’s wish as well; they do not yet know. If we can convince them to return your daughter, unharmed, everything can be as He wishes.”

            He seems to consider this. “Because the Holy Father wishes it, it will be so. But,” he adds menacingly, “you have one day to achieve this, or I will wage war. And if my daughter is injured, there can be no peace.”

            “Agreed,” I say, relieved. We can do this. Bones instructs Osiris on how to care for his wife, and then the four of us leave the hut. Walking quickly to the edge of the city, none of us say anything. We convene as soon as we can talk without anyone else in earshot. “Okay, so we need a plan of attack.”

            “The three of you are transporting back aboard the ship,” Spock orders, and we all look at him incredulously.

            “Are you out of your Vulcan mind?” Bones asks skeptically. “Seriously, what the hell kind of plan is that?”

            “It is the most logical choice of action,” he states, purposefully not meeting my eyes. “As I am the only person aboard the Enterprise with the necessary data required to partake in this mission, and I am the only one who will be able to enter the Rete village without hostilities directed towards me, it is the only option that has a chance of success.” I can’t even comprehend what he’s suggesting.

            “Spock, you can’t do this,” I protest. “You’ve gone insane.”

            “Gentlemen, if you would beam aboard, I need to have a private word with the Commander.”

            Bones and Chekov avert their eyes, no doubt feeling awkwardly in the middle of a couple’s quarrel. They signal Scotty, and we watch as they dematerialize in front of us. As soon as they are gone, I whirl towards Spock. “If you think for one second that I’m going to let you do this—"

            “You have your orders, Commander.”

            “Well then, Captain, I guess I’m committing a mutiny because this is horseshit.”

            “Jim, please, there is no time to waste. This will not work unless I do it alone.”

            “Alright then, Spock, say I let you do this alone. What happens if you die, hm? What happens to me?”

            “I will not die,” he says softly.

            “You don’t know that for sure.” I run a hand through my hair agitatedly and take a step closer to him. I fist my hand in the front of his tunic and pull his face close, only inches from mine. “You get the girl, you establish peaceful relations, and then you get the hell out. You come back to me, do you understand?” Spock nods, and I push him roughly away from me, yanking out my communicator. “Scotty, energize.” The last thing I see before the transporter room manifests around me is Spock looking at me, hurt but determined.

            As soon as I materialize, I stalk to the bridge. “Lt. Uhura, I want you monitoring his frequencies, and keep a channel open at all times in case he needs assistance.” I hit the intercom button on the captain’s chair. “Bones, I want a medical team on standby. You better be ready to check him out as soon as he beams aboard.”

            “You got it, Jim. You okay?”

            “Yep, just peachy,” I lie, and cut the com. I make sure my mental shields are in place so my emotions aren’t distracting Spock, but the downside is that I have literally no idea what he’s doing. I’m so mad that he would ask this of me. There had to have been a different alternative, or at least people that could’ve went with him. There’s nothing for me to do but sit around and brood and worry and sit around some more. The next eight hours pass by slowly, and by the end of the shift I’m about ready to pull my hair out. Officers are relieved and new ones take their place, but I don’t move, just sit in the chair and wait. Another four hours pass by, and Bones comes up to the bridge.

            “Damn, Jim, you don’t look so well.”

            “Thanks for your opinion Bones, but I don’t remember asking for it.”

            “Hey,” he says sharply, pointing a finger at me. “I’m not the one you’re angry at, so you can drop the attitude. I’m just looking out for you, kid.”

            “I know,” I say, rubbing a hand down my face. “I’m sorry, I’m just stressed out and worried and freaking out.”

            “Don’t you have that bond in your head for a reason?”

            “I can’t risk opening it. If it were to distract Spock during a fight or something, it could get him killed.”

            “Now you know how I feel whenever you beam down, kid. I never have any idea if you’re going to come back dead or alive. Sometimes, it’s a pretty close call.”

            “It’s not the same, Bones. You’re not in love with me.”

            “Thank God I’m not. You’d drive me crazy. You do anyways.”

            I give him a small, half-hearted smile. “Thanks.”

            “Maybe you should try and get some rest.”

            I shake my head. “There’s no way I’m getting any sleep until Spock’s back on board.”

            He pats my shoulder and exits the bridge. Times ticking down; Spock only has twelve hours left. The next six pass by uneventful. Bridge personnel switch out again. I’m about to just beam down despite his orders when his voice breaks through on the communications station. Uhura immediately boosts his signal. “Spock to Enterprise.”

            “Enterprise here, Captain. What are your orders?” Uhura responds.

            “Ready…for beam up,” he says, and my heart thumps painfully at the strain in his voice. I run for the transporter room, yelling for someone to get the medical staff there stat. I burst into the room just as Spock materializes on the pad. He falls to his knees immediately, green bursting from his side, soaking his tunic. I’m beside him in an instant, supporting his weight and trying to help him stop the blood flow. He’s gasping from the pain, and I have to force my mental shields to stay in place so I can focus. I push torrents of love and reassurance and safety at him, hoping to make him relax, but I can feel his consciousness slipping.

            “Spock!” I plead frantically. “Spock, hey look at me. I’m right here; just stay awake until Bones gets here too. Where is that damn medical team?!” Right on cue, they hurry in, and I help them lift him onto a stretcher. I run behind them as they rush him to the sickbay, and I pace outside in the corridor until Bones comes to usher me in.

            “Jim, you’re making my staff nervous with all of your lurking.”

            “What else am I supposed to do, Bones? How is he?”

            “Can’t you sense it?”

            I shake my head impatiently. “Not when he’s in the healing trance. So how is he?”

            “He’s got a fractured rib, internal bleeding, and he’s lost a lot of blood, most likely from prolonged exposure without treatment. He got hit with an arrowhead, and the damn thing grazed his heart; another millimeter or so and he’d be dead.”

            “Jesus Christ,” I mumble, rubbing my forehead roughly. “Is he going to be okay?”

            “M’Benga thinks so. In fact, he’s pretty confident on it, as long as the trance works properly.”

            “Can I see him?”

            “He won’t come out of it for at least a day, Jim, but more likely three. Why don’t you try to get some shut-eye instead?”

            I just look at him, and he sighs. “He’s in the back,” he says with a jerk of his head indicating where he means. I walk around him and locate Spock’s bed immediately. I plop down in the chair beside it and scrutinize his face. He looks peaceful, despite everything. I lean my head on the edge of the mattress and sigh. “I know you can hear me, Spock.” I say softly. “I know you’re aware of my presence and you just can’t acknowledge it because you’re focused on getting better.” I laugh a little out of relief, just glad that he’s laying here in front of me, damaged but alive. “You bastard, I told you, I told you not to go, but you didn’t listen to me and now you’re here.” I sit up and lean back so I can look at his face even though he can’t see me. “Don’t you ever, ever, do anything like that to me again, or I will kill you myself.”

            I pull out my PADD and start making the reports on Orela, putting as much as I know into it and setting it aside to be completed later, when Spock can give the full analysis. I don’t get much sleep that night, maybe one or two hours-worth of dozing by Spock’s bedside. The next day passes without incident, and though both Bones and M’Benga assure me that Spock’s condition is getting better, he still doesn’t wake up. In fact, he doesn’t wake up for four days, and when he does, my heart about stops in my chest. He wakes up gasping, and I jump to my feet. “I need you to hit me,” he forces out, so I do. I hit him repeatedly across the face until he catches my arm, signaling for me to stop. His eyes open slowly, and he blinks a couple of times before focusing on my face.

            “Are you alright?” I demand, and he nods.

            “I am fully healed, if not a little disoriented.”

            “Good,” I say briskly. “I’ll get Dr. McCoy. If you’ll excuse me, I need to report to the bridge.” I storm out before he can say anything, and as I pass his desk, I look down at Bones. “Spock’s awake,” I tell him flatly before exiting the sickbay. I don’t go to the bridge; I’d turned command over to Scotty and Sulu when Spock first beamed aboard. Between the two of them, they can handle the bridge, and if they need me they can call. I go back to my quarters for the first time in days, and I climb into bed without even bothering to change my clothes, which is gross and disgusting but right now I’m so exhausted that I don’t even care. I feel Spock brush my mind tentatively, and I slam my mental shields up to send him the message: _I am so not speaking to you right now_. I am livid about his orders on the planet. I know that it’s his duty as captain to make the best decisions for his crew, but that was not one of them. That was just reckless. Luckily, I fall asleep quickly, and I don’t have to think for a couple of hours at least.

            The next morning I wake up and see that I have a message from Bones from last night on my pad. I open it up and read: **Keeping the hobgoblin overnight. Releasing him tomorrow at around 1500 hours.**

            I type one back now, which I know he’ll get because he’s on duty. **Thanks, Bones.**

I get a response back almost immediately, just as I suspected. **He’s sulking.** **It’s scaring my patients.**

I roll my eyes even though I know he can’t see me. **Just stay out of it, Bones.**

**You got it, kid.**

            It’s only 1200 hours, so I decide to go to the gym to work off some of the anger. A talk is coming eventually, and I know that if Bones is releasing Spock at 1500, I should expect to see him in my quarters at precisely 1502. I catch myself starting to glower at the thought, and I think, yep, definitely should go to the gym. So I go, and change into some sweats and pound on a sandbag for the next three hours. It’s a good distraction. The rhythm that I beat into the bag is loud enough to keep me from thinking too hard, and the pain from my knuckles keeps me distracted. By the time I’m finished I’m breathing hard, soaked with sweat and I've split my knuckles open on both hands despite wrapping them. I check the chronometer on the wall and it says 1503. Whoops, I’m late. Maybe I did it on purpose. I don’t even know. I debate going to sickbay and getting my hands looked at but I know Bones will just gripe at me for it, and I don’t feel like dealing with it right now. It’ll be worse if I wait, but I decide to go later, at least until after I talk to Spock.

            I walk into my quarters and he’s surprisingly not there. I don’t bother taking a shower because, depending on how this goes, I might just be heading back to the gym. I grab a glass of water and drain it just as I hear the door chime. Maybe we were both late on purpose. I school my features into a mask and go open the door. He’s standing outside with his arms folded behind his back, and he’s not looking directly at me, rather at a point somewhere over my left shoulder. “May I come in?” He asks quietly, and I step aside to let him pass. He stands near the center of the room and at first I ignore him, and start unbinding my hands. I bite my lips as the gauze pulls at the split skin, and I hear Spock inhale suddenly from behind me. “Jim,” he says, shocked, and I turn to look at him. His face is torn between sadness and anger, which makes me angry.

            “What, this?” I ask, holding up my hand. “This is nothing.”

            “I disagree,” he says sharply, but I shake my head.

            “No, you don’t get to lecture me about this, because last time I checked, it was you in that bio-bed, not me.”

            “The circumstances were completely different,” he protests.

            “Does it really matter? It always comes down to the same thing.” I take a deep breath. “How could you do that to me? Do you have any idea what it felt like to sit there for 18 hours and not know what was going to happen to you? We’re supposed to be in this together.” I let down my mental shields for the first time in days. I don’t try to hide any of the anger or worry I’d been feeling. I want him to know exactly what I’ve gone through. I feel him shift through the emotions and watch him flinch in front of me. Guilt threads through my thoughts suddenly, and I feel bad for letting him see this, but I feel like he needs to know.

            “James,” he breathes, and my heart pinches. I don’t think he’s ever called me that before. “I am sorry. I did not know.” I can see the regret clearly in his eyes.

            Now that I’ve gotten this off my chest, I’m tired of being angry at him. I just want to curl up with him and never let him go. I go over to him and rest my forehead against his chest. “I’m supposed to be pissed at you,” I say into his shirt. “Stop making me forgive you.”

            His hand comes up to comb through my hair. “Have I been forgiven?”

            I sigh. “Yeah.” I lift my head to look at him. “But I swear to God, if you ever—” He cuts me off with a kiss, and I lean into it, his mouth opening under mine. His palms cup my face, and I push against his lower back with my hands, pulling us tightly together. Our mouths move in a perfect rhythm, completely in sync and wonderful. Heat grows in the pit of my stomach, searing me as I start walking backwards towards the bed, pulling him with me, careful to make sure our mouths never separate. When the back of my knees hit the edge of the mattress, I break away, pulling his shirt over his head and taking mine off as well. I push him down on the bed, and hover over him, kissing a path from his mouth down his jaw and to his neck. His eyes flutter close and I grin against his throat. I nip lightly at his collarbone and he growls and hell if that isn’t an immediate turn on. The rest of our clothes are gone in an instant, and everything is how it should be between us again.

            I’ve decided that make up sex is the best thing ever. As we lie in bed together afterwards, I trace tiny circles on his arms when a though occurs to me. “What even happened down there, anyways?”

            “After you left, I walked the twenty miles between the Jaiet city and the Rete village. That took a considerable amount of time, and once I arrived at the village, there was an uprising occurring between two groups. The rebel forces were proposing war, while the remainder of the people wanted peace. I managed to convince a small group of the rebels to show me where they were keeping Osiris’s daughter. I successfully managed to rescue her from her captors, but I was discovered while attempting to escape. An arrow pierced my side, and I shielded myself from the pain. I ran back to the Jaiet village, and Osiris accompanied me to the Rete village. Together, we were able to dispel the talk of war, and peaceful relations have been established between the two peoples, and plans of replenishing the planet are underway. The Federation is sending a scout ship to monitor Orela’s progress.”

            “You’re remarkable, you know that?” I ask, gaping at the tale.

            “Indeed,” he says wryly, and I smother his face with a pillow.


	15. Unconscious Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Jim's brain is not his own...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took so long, dears. I've had a busy week coupled with intense writers block. It's a tad bit shorter than the last couple of chapters, and I wrote it in a rush, so again sorry if its not as well written.  
> Thanks for sticking with me! Love you all.  
> xoxoxox

I’ve been feeling off lately, but I can’t quite put my finger on why. I try to make it less obvious, seeing as I don’t actually have any physical proof, and I don’t want to worry Spock, but I just don’t feel like myself. I had my physical last week, and Bones declared I’m fit as a fiddle, so I don’t understand why I feel so _wrong_ all of a sudden. It’s kind of like someone sucked out all of my insides. I’m more irritable, I sleep less, I’m never hungry; it’s getting to be a pain in my ass, especially since I’m trying to keep it away from Spock’s attentive eyes. I’m getting pretty good at blocking particular thoughts from him, especially when I have my shields up. I know he doesn’t particularly like it when I do it, but I just don’t want him to get anxious about nothing. It’s probably just me being anxious as it is. Ever since we got back from Gamma IX, the last planet we surveyed, I’ve just had this feeling that someone’s always leaning right over my shoulder. It’s ridiculous, but I can’t seem to get it to go away.

            It’s become increasingly difficult to focus on anything. To be honest, it’s annoying the hell out of me, but I refuse to allow it to interfere or affect my position as second in command. It means I have to limit my distractions as much as possible, that’s all. Which…is turning out to be hard considering my bondmate is literally five feet from me at all times, unless I’m in the lab. Even then, we keep constant contact in our heads. I avoid going to the lab as much as possible now, because focusing on my experiments, talking to Spock telepathically, and making sure I don’t slip up is really taxing and by the time my shift is over I’m always exhausted, which then worries Spock and he’s twice as observant around me. I know the logical thing to do would be to report my symptoms, but I can’t bring myself too. I’m too stubborn, or proud, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I don’t like admitting that I need anyone. It could be any of those, honestly, and I don’t care to take the time to analyze myself that deeply. I’m kind of scared that if I go too far deep into my thoughts, I might not be able to pull myself back out.

            There’s a thin prodding in my head, bringing me back to the present. I must not be shielding as well as I thought, because Spock is looking at me oddly from his command chair. I give him what I think is a very convincing smile despite my head being disarrayed, and turn back to my station so I don’t have to meet his eyes anymore. It makes me feel guilty not telling him, but I just know this is something I need to work through on my own. And, if it does turn out to be something worrisome, I don’t want Bones thinking he can take me off duty. Nope, not happening, so I guess I’m sticking to silently struggling in my own head. I can do this.

            Our shift ends in about 23.34 minutes; Spock just informed me silently. I know that through the information he’s hinting that we’re going to have a talk later. Damn. I know I can’t directly lie to him if he asks me what’s going on, and then supports his claims with a shit-ton of logic that I can’t ignore. The remainder of the shift passes more quickly than I want it to, but sure enough 23.34 minutes later Spock is standing at my elbow, looking down at me expectantly. I rise slowly, fiddling with a couple buttons as a last attempt to stall before following him into the turbo-lift. Once we’re in the privacy of the lift, he presses the manual stop button and turns to face me. Apparently this can’t wait until we get to our quarters. It kind of surprises me, because Spock rarely does something so illogical. Holding up the lift inconveniences the other crew members, seeing as it’s the only one that leads to the bridge. But, I reason, this is a late shift, and most of the yeomans that travel to and fro are off duty. Thinking through his actions doesn’t curb the intense reluctance I have to talk to him about my actions.

            He crosses his arms and gives me the Spock-look: the one he reserves for insubordinate officers, and I know I’m in big trouble. “You are not feeling well,” he states, and it certainly isn’t a question.

            “I’m a little tired, yeah.” I try not to look directly into his eyes because I can feel them glaring at me. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose instead.

            “Jim, why do you insist on falsifying your condition? You are aware that I can sense how you are feeling.”

            I sigh. “Spock—”

            “Jim, I only wish to assist you, as your captain, and as your bondmate.”

            I open my eyes…

            …and I’m lying flat on the ground with Spock’s forearm pressed firmly against my windpipe. I blink up at him, bewildered, and as I stare past him at the ceiling I realize we’re no longer in the turbo-lift, but in our quarters. Wait, what? How did we get here? _When_ did we get here? What the hell?

            “Spock,” I try to croak out around his arm, but he merely presses harder, sufficiently cutting off my air and my ability to speak. He glares down at me furiously. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry at me.

            “Who are you?” He grounds out between his teeth, and I get the feeling that this isn’t the first time he’s asked me the question. But what does he mean, who am I? Panic and alarm flare within me and his grip falters as he takes in my thoughts. His eyes furrow and he looks confused before reinforcing the pressure against my throat. “What have you done with my First Officer?”

            It’s becoming hard to breath, and there are dark spots edging into my vision. Panic is controlling me now as I struggle fiercely against him. I look at him imploringly, silently begging him to let me go. I can’t get a grip on myself. It’s scaring me, honestly, and I wonder for a moment if he’s going to kill me. I almost feel the thought float across the bond and he practically flings himself off of me, releasing me as though I had burned him. I cough and roll onto my side, wheezing for breath. I sit up slowly and rub my throat, breathing heavily. Spock is sitting on the floor in front of me, eyebrows furrowed and deep in thought. He looks up and meets my gaze guiltily. We just stare at each other until I catch my breath.

            “What just happened?” Is what I finally manage to say, my voice hoarse. He flinches slightly from the roughness in my voice, but shakes his head.

            “I do not know. I am thoroughly perplexed.”

            “Well, let’s start with the beginning. I don’t remember how we got here.” I tell him, gesturing around at the room. Spock’s eyebrows draw impossibly closer.

            “You do not remember what, exactly? What is the last moment in your memory?”

            “You said…you wanted to help me. In the turbo-lift,” I clarify.

            “That was 46.27 minutes ago, Commander.” I notice that he distinctly did not call me Jim.

            “Okay, so I’m missing around 45 minutes of my life. What happened? What did you mean when you asked me who I was?”

            “We continued our discussion in the lift. You argued that you are in optimal health, and to ‘stop nagging you’. You got quite irritated. We traveled from the lift to here, and the argument continued until you suddenly tried to engage in intimate interactions, during which I discovered I could not sense you at all. Your touch felt…wrong to me. I attempted to disengage from your embrace and you became violent. I was forced to restrain you on the ground, and I came to the conclusion that you are not my Jim. I am uncertain if I was mistaken.”

            I rub a hand down my face. “Jesus…well, whatever happened, I’m me now.” He looks at me warily and I give him a half-smile. “Come see for yourself.” I hold my hand out to him and he takes it carefully. The bond flares between us, and I close my eyes, letting his mine brush against my own. I sense his apprehension, his worry and concern and confusion. I let my own fear show and my confusion as well.

            “Jim, I would like to initiate a meld, so I may search your mind for answers.”

            “Spock,” I roll my eyes. “You know you don’t have to ask to meld with me.”

            He nods in assent, and moves his hand into position on my face. I feel his mind searching through my thoughts and memories, but when he removes his hand he doesn’t look pleased. “I cannot ascertain any wrongness in your mind. However, there is indeed a blank spot where the 45 minute period occurred.”

            “Weird,” I say. “Maybe I was just tired and lost it.”

            He shakes his head. “That should have been remembered nonetheless.”

            “Maybe I’m going crazy,” I suggest more flippantly than I feel, but again he shakes his head.

            “I would’ve discovered any sickness in your mind.”

            “Could I have just suppressed the memories, since I was being a dick?”

            Once more he disagrees. “I could have unlocked them if they were present in the slightest.”

            I through my hands up in defeat, and then slump against the wall in exhaustion. “I don’t know what the hell happened, then.”

            “I find that I agree with your statement.”

            “So what do I do?”

            “We,” Spock corrects, “will find a solution to this problem, just as we have with every other.” He folds his legs in front of him, so he’s sitting cross-legged in front of me. Overcome with the sudden need to just feel him, to know he’s real, I close the small space between us and settle onto his lap. I cradle his face and lean my forehead against his, closing my eyes.

            When I finally open them to look at him, it isn’t at all what I expect. I must have blacked out again. We’ve moved somehow onto the bed and he’s shirtless and looking at me with thinly disguised fear. Spock’s pinning me to the bed, hands on my shoulders and legs straddling my waist. Fuck, my head feels fuzzy. I force every muscle in my body to relax, fighting the urge to propel him off of me, and his face contorts as he lets go of me quickly. “What did I do this time?” I whisper, as I will my shaking body to still.

            “Nothing of consequence,” Spock says softly, and moves to lie beside me. He tangles our fingers and I squeeze them gratefully. I’m still sort of disoriented, but despite the fact that it’s hard to think straight I press him anyways.

            “Spock, I need to know.”

            “We began osculating, and once it became impassioned, I repositioned us on the bed instead of the floor. You began to be incredibly…enthusiastic in your efforts, uncharacteristically so. It was bordering on aggression. I restrained your movements. That is all that transpired.”

            I take a deep breath. “I need to see Bones.”

            “In the morning; you are fatigued. Sleep,” he urges, but I shake my head. “Explain.”

            I’m silent for a moment, and then force the words from my mouth. “If I go to sleep now, I’m not sure who I’ll be when I wake up,” I say quietly.

            “No matter what,” he promises softly, “I will be here when you awaken. I will not leave your side, Jim.”

            I turn on my side to look at him. “I don’t deserve you,” I tell him.

            His eyebrows furrow. “That statement is highly illogical considering—”

            I place my hand over his mouth. “Shh, let’s just go to sleep,” I murmur. I roll over and pull his arm tightly around me, threading my fingers back through his. I feel him place a gentle kiss to the back of my head before I squeeze my eyes shut firmly and will myself to sleep.

            When I wake in the morning, I am myself. I haven’t moved from the position I fell asleep in, and Spock is still curled around me, fast asleep. I focus on shifting through my head, making sure I’m aware to everything that’s going on. So this time, I feel when something shifts. I fight against the blankness trying to consume my thoughts, the foreign feeling attempting to control my actions. The effort makes me start to sweat, and I begin to convulse on the bed, but I’m winning. Spock snaps awake instantly, and he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s freaking out, but doesn’t do a very good job. He places his hand on my face and initiates the meld. He seeks out the invasion instantly, and helps reinforce my control. My movements still on the bed, and together our minds trap whatever is trying to force its way into my consciousness. After putting up an elementary shield, Spock withdraws from me.

            “I believe I have pinpointed the problem,” Spock says, but he looks troubled.

            “And?” I hedge.

            “It seems as though when we transported down to Gamma IX, Dr. Kertis transferred his consciousness into yours through the brief physical contact he initiated.”

            Gamma IX is a penal colony, filled with traitors and murders and psychopaths. The doctors and guards there are touch telepaths, similar to Vulcans but not as disciplined or restrained. They use their gifts to help calm and treat the inmates there. A few years ago, however, Dr. Lee Kertis, a therapist for all of the inmates, was charged with conspiracy efforts to release the people confined and was admitted to the institution himself as a prisoner. During our inspection of the colony, Kertis had reached through the bars of his window and snatched at the bare skin of my wrist. I had pulled away immediately, of course, but apparently not soon enough.

            “Well, shit!” I exclaim. “How do I get him out of my head?” I feel the shield crumble in my mind, and I am reminded that the Dr. was a telepath himself. Oh, I am screwed. “Spock—” I start, but it’s too late. Kertis has taken over. It’s not like the last two times, though. I can still sense everything that I’m doing; I just can’t do anything to stop it. I struggle for control, but it’s no use. I watch myself lunge for Spock’s throat, and feel my hands finding purchase as they squeeze. Screaming inside my head doesn’t do any good to stop him. I redouble my efforts, and for a moment I am able to loosen my grip on Spock, but it doesn’t last long. It gives him the opportunity to gain the upper hand, though, and soon Spock is across the room, eyeing me cautiously but reluctant to restrain me. I know it’s because of my panic attacks, but right now I wish he’d stop being so damn considerate and just hold me down until Kertis weakens in my head. For now, Spock and I just circle each other as I try to locate Kertis in my mind. After what seems like an eternity, Spock leaps at me, and while Kertis is distracted I grab a hold of his presence, and I claw and scratch until I feel him withdrawing like a wounded animal. Spock and I are grappling in the center of the room when my limbs respond to my orders. I stop resisting him immediately, and the sudden stop of onslaught sends us both to the ground. He pushes himself up on one elbow as I lay there, the room spinning around me. He gets to his feet and pushes the com on the wall, signaling Bones to our quarters. I’m still on the floor when Bones gets there and Spock explains the situation.

            “Jim, I think it would be best if we keep you sedated until Spock can work his voodoo and get your head straight,” Bones tells me solemnly.

            I nod. “Whatever you say, doc.”

            He looks at me suspiciously. “You’re not even going to try and argue?”

            “I don’t want to hurt anybody,” I tell him quietly, and his face softens.

            “You won’t, kid,” and he shoots me with a hypo. I feel a fleeting touch on my forehead before the room goes dark.

            When I wake up, I’m sitting in a chair in a bright white room, my head leaning against someone’s shoulder. I blink a couple of times and look up to see Bones watching me. “Hey,” I say groggily.

            “Hey yourself,” he answers, and before I can ask he continues talking. “We’re in a room on the penal colony. The captain left to get the prisoner so he can screw your head on straight.”

            “Fantastic,” I groan, and stretch the kinks from my neck. “How long have I been out?”

            “Only a few hours. Spock set up the meeting as soon as possible.”

            “Any…episodes?”

            “Nope, the sedative kept you effectively under.”

            I rub my eyes. “Well, that’s a relief.”

            Just then, Spock walks in with two security guards flanking Kertis. Spock gives me a swift once over and then leads Kertis to sit in the chair next to me. When I look at him, it gives me the chills. His face is completely blank, and despite knowing that his mind is empty, it’s still extremely creepy to see for myself. It’s even weirder to think about how he’s in my head instead. I really need to stop thinking now before I feel even more violated. Spock places a hand on both our faces and pulls me into the meld. His thoughts are like mist from a waterfall on a hot day; his touch soothes everything, and together we force the intruder from my mind. Spock carries his consciousness from my thoughts and places it back in Kertis’ head. A barked laugh startles us from the meld and Spock releases my face. Kertis is laughing maniacally beside me, and I feel myself being yanked from my chair and across the room. I look over at Bones, who has a tight grip on my arm, and at Spock, who’s still kneeling and looking at Kertis curiously.

            Kertis is a small man, thin and short, with a shock of flaming orange hair. His face twists into a distorted grin, and I feel Bones’ grip on me tighten. I pat his hand reassuringly, to remind him that we are all the way across the room. Spock tilts his head, and he looks quite like a cat while performing the gesture. Kertis is still laughing, and I have to admit it’s disturbing to listen to. “You think you’ve stopped me?” Kertis snorts and his voice has a nasally quality. “I’ll just find someone else to be my host, someone less stubborn and more easily convinced. The only way to stop me is to kill me. And we all know the notorious Captain Spock wouldn’t harm a fly.”

            “On the contrary,” Spock replies, his voice calm. “I have no tolerance for beings that attempt to harm the people most important to me. You underestimate my ability to make your life miserable.” His response kind of surprises me, especially since I can sense the anger radiating from him through the bond. Kertis starts laughing again, and I really want to deck him in order to shut him up. “What do you find amusing?” Spock inquires.

            “That you actually think he cares about you!” Kertis lets out a girlish giggly and bends at the waist. “I’ve been in his head, poor Vulcan. I know his thoughts. Though,” he adds thoughtfully, “you are a fantastic kisser.” He gives Spock a wink that makes my blood boil.

            “You are clearly mistaken, or you would be aware that I share his mind.”

            “Then you know that he thinks you’re a half-breed?” Kertis sneers. “Little Jimmy,” I flinch from the name, and he smirks at me. “Little, damaged Jimmy, so desiring to be loved and cared for that he’d take the first offer he got. He doesn’t want you, Captain. You were just the first in line.”

            Spock seems frozen in front of him. Before I can say anything, Kertis continues. “You can’t be what he needs. You’re a Vulcan; Kirk needs a human. What makes you think you are good enough? Or that you can love him enough?”

            I rip my arm out of Bones’ hand and stalk over to where Spock is still on the ground. I put my palm on the back of his neck reassuringly. “That’s enough,” I snarl at Kertis. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            He raises his eyebrows at me. “Don’t I, Jimmy?”

            “Don’t call me that.”

            Kertis starts laughing and I reach down to pull Spock to his feet. He has a carefully arranged mask plastered to his face, and I can feel his shields going up in his mind. I don’t understand; Spock should know better than to listen to that asshole. Doesn’t he trust me? I try to convey love through the bond, but it just rebounds off of his shielding and I start to get really worried. “C’mon, let’s go,” I urge quietly, and he turns from me stiffly and walks out of the room. I give Bones a helpless look and he just shrugs, and together we follow Spock out the door. I hear him talking with a doctor in low tones about raising Kertis’ security, and then he’s signaling Scotty to beam us aboard.

            When we arrive on the ship, he paces from the room without a word, and I’m about to go after him when Bones stops me. “Jim, I know…actually, I don’t know about whatever’s going on, but I need you in sickbay to run some tests and make sure you’re okay.”

            “Can’t this wait?”

            “Hell no,” he gives me a look. “He’ll still be there when you get done. Maybe it’s best if you just let him cool down before you try to talk to him anyways.”

            “Or,” I start, “he really wants me to run dramatically after him and declare my undying love.”

            Bones rolls his eyes. “He’s not you, Jim.”

            I throw my hands up. “Fine, but this better be the fastest check-up you’ve ever given in your entire career.”

            “Well if you would’ve shut your mouth and stopped arguing, we could’ve already been in the sickbay.”

            I stalk out of the room towards his office, and the tests actually only take a couple minutes before Bones clears me to go. I jog to our quarters, knowing Spock will be there, most likely meditating. Sure enough, when I rush through the gliding door, the lights are down low and there are numerous candles lit. Spock’s folded on his mat in the center of the room, eyes closed, and he doesn’t acknowledge that I’d entered at all. I go over and sit in front of him, and just stare until he opens his eyes to look at me. “That is distracting,” he tells me.

            “Your face is distracting,” I retort, and wave away his comments when I see his eyebrows furrow. “About what Kertis said—”

            “It is of no consequence,” he cuts me off. “I understand that it was a form of manipulation. No comment in need on the matter.”

            “Funny, because I still feel like we should talk about it. I saw how his words affected you.”

            “They did disturb me,” he admits.

            “Then we definitely need to talk about it.” I place a hand to his face. “Spock, you know me better than anyone. You can literally read my mind. You must know he was lying.”

            “Indeed. It is illogical for me to dwell on things that I know to be untrue, yet I cannot let go of my doubt.”

            “I don’t want you any other way,” I say truthfully. “You make me happier than I ever thought possible, you know that. I love you; always have and always will.”

            His eyes look at me in the low light, making his irises look almost black. “It is true that I am not the most satisfactory choice for a mate, especially for a human.”

            “Okay, that is the biggest load of bullshit ever,” I say angrily. “Had the situation not been so dire, I would’ve beaten the hell out of Kertis for even suggesting that.”

            “Perhaps a human male would be more suitable for you…” He lowers his eyes.

            “Spock, how many times do I have to say it?” I say softly. “I don’t want anybody else, okay? Just you, forever.” I squish his face between my hands, making his cheeks puff up comically. “Do. You. Understand?”  He gives a small nod and I release his face in favor of pressing a small kiss to his lips and pulling him up by a hand. “What do you say we go to bed?” I suggest, and I watch his eyes darken sexily in response. He picks me up by my waist and tosses me on the bed, which I hit with a gasping laugh. “God, that is so hot.” He strips his uniform off until he’s just in his briefs, and comes over to join me on the bed. I take off my boots quickly, and he rips my shirt down the middle and tears it off of me. “Damn,” I breathe, “That’s the fifth one this month, Captain.”

            He shivers. “I find I do not care,” he murmurs huskily against my skin, and I close my eyes as he runs his hands down my sides. I bring his face up to meet mine, and fasten our lips together passionately. How he thought I could resent this, I’ll never know. I’ve never known anything better, will never know anything better. There isn’t anything I would rather have than him. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove it.


	16. Never Letting You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock gets trapped on Uthira while Jim is forced to leave him behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter once again, but I think it's really cute so hopefully it makes up for it. Next chapter will most likely be short too, but dang, that one will be so filled with fluff that I KNOW it will make up for it ;) not sure when it will be posted, just be patient dearies  
> xoxoxo

There’s a month until Spock and I’s anniversary, and I want to do something really special. The thing is, it’s really hard to do anything really special when we’re in the middle of empty space. The next planet we’re due on is supposed to be a diplomatic mission, and I doubt we’ll have any time to stop off somewhere for me to get something. We don’t even have any basic ingredients for me to make a homemade romantic dinner. I’m running out of time, and I don’t have any options.

            We’re due to orbit Uthira later today, and Spock has specific orders to beam down to the planet alone, which I protested profusely but it doesn’t change the facts. The Uthirics are extremely xenophobic, so it’s supposed to be a quick mission. Get in, sign the treaty, and get out; simple. I’m restless in our quarters, and I can’t seem to stop pacing. We’re both off duty until Spock beams down, and then I’ll report to the bridge as acting captain. Spock’s in the shower, getting ready for the meeting and I should probably be doing reports, but like I said: I can’t stop pacing. I have a bad feeling in my gut about this mission, and it’s making me extremely anxious. I have half a mind to beg Spock to stay aboard and let me go down instead.

            “It would do little good, Jim,” Spock says, exiting the bathroom while reading my thoughts. “We have our orders.”

            “I know,” I say, frustrated. “I just…I don’t like the idea of you going down by yourself.”

            He comes over and presses his two fingers to mine. “I understand. I would feel the same if our situations were reversed.”

            “So you won’t even consider it? We could send someone else down, it doesn’t have to be me.”

            “We have our orders, Jim,” He reminds me. I’m suddenly very aware that he’s clad in only a towel.

            “You…should probably put some clothes on,” I say, looking down at the towel and swallowing. He raises an eyebrow, but goes to his closet to grab his green and gold dress uniform. I busy myself with rearranging things on my desk while he changes. It’s sort of ridiculous, but even after a year I still get awkward about being naked. It makes it difficult for me to think and I always say the wrong things. Spock finds it hilarious but he never says anything about it. I suspect it’s because he doesn’t want to make me any more uncomfortable than I already am. God, I love him. Once he’s thoroughly clothed, he comes up behind me and replaces all of the objects to their original places on the desk, and gives me his not-smile.

            I kiss his cheek, and then check the chronometer on the wall. “We have to go,” I say reluctantly, and he nods his assent. “I’ll show you to the transporter.” We walk in silence, and ease step makes me grow tenser than the last. We arrive in the room and Scotty’s standing behind the controls, looking chipper as ever. It must just be me feeling this way, like something horrible is going to happen if Spock leaves the ship. Spock touches my wrist lightly before pulling away and turning to the pad. I stop him, though, and wrap my arms around his shoulders instead. I see the tip of his ear turn green at the contact in front of Scotty, but I don’t really care. He pats my back reassuringly, and I step back, giving him a small nod.

            _Come back in one piece,_ I send through the bond.

            _I shall endeavor to do so, Jim._

            And then he’s gone.

 

            I head up to the bridge and check my station before heading for the command chair. I get comfortable, even though it’s supposed to be a short mission. About half an hour later, Uhura is talking to me from her station. “Uthira is hailing us, Commander.”

            “On screen,” I tell her, and soon I’m looking at what looks to be a giant rat. I school my features to mask my surprise, but the bridge personnel start to murmur amongst themselves at its appearance. I snap my fingers lightly to signal their silence. “This is Commander Kirk. What can I do for you?” I have no idea if it’s a female or male, so I just leave off any formalities.

            “I am Councilwoman Turka,” the Uthirian replies. “I have been instructed to inform you that the signing of the treaty is to take longer than expected.” She squirms uncomfortable on the screen. “We will require your captain’s presence on the planet for two Terran weeks at the least.”

            “Two weeks?” I say, disbelieving. “Is that absolutely necessary?”

            “Of course, Commander Kirk. I would not mention it otherwise.”

            “I am sorry, Councilwoman,” I put on my best smile. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline the request. We have other missions in this sector to attend to. We are due at Yulce III by the end of the week.”

            “I must insist, Commander. It is of utmost importance, and I believe you misunderstood me. It was not a request, merely a statement of what will occur.”

            “You cannot keep a Starfleet captain hostage,” I argue. “Surely we can compromise.”

            “No, Commander, I don’t think so. Since the treaty has not yet been signed, I do not think this violates our terms. It is our conditions of signing.”

            “May I speak with Captain Spock?”

            “He is preoccupied.”

            Frustration starts to seep into my tone. “Can I contact him when he is finished?”

            “I do not think so. It will interfere with our process. I have also been instructed to inform you that our planet is now shielded, both telepathically and physically. No contact is permitted.”

            “You can’t do this,” I protest through my teeth.

            “We can, Commander, and we will. Captain Spock has agreed to our terms. It is done.” And with that, the transmission ended. I tried futilely to reach Spock through the bond, but just like Councilwoman Turka said, the telepathic shields in place around the planet successfully dimmed our connection past the point of communication. I swear under my breath. My hands are tied and there’s absolutely nothing I can do. I don’t know how to fathom that.

            I turn in my chair to face Lt. Uhura. “Contact Starfleet,” I order. “Alert them of the situation and request orders.”

            “Aye, sir,” she responds.

            “Sulu, you have the con. I’ll be in my quarters. If we get any messages I want them directly streamed to my room.”

            “Aye, sir.”

            “Good, thank you,” I turn swiftly on my heel and head for my quarters. I need to calm down before I do something stupid. I almost run into a yeoman on my way and she asks me multiple times if I’m alright before she leaves me alone. When I get to my room I pull out Spock’s meditation mat and throw myself down, trying all of the techniques in a desperate attempt to order my mind. It helps a little; I’m able to chill out enough to think a little more logically. It’s fine, I tell myself. They didn’t say they were going to hurt him. She didn’t even sound threatening, just stubborn and persistent. There isn’t anything I can do. I wouldn’t be as tense if we were allowed communications, and if we could orbit the planet the entire time. What I don’t look forward to is leaving Spock on the planet while we go to Yulce III. Not to mention I’m nervous about being captain for an extended period of time. I just wish I could feel him in my head. Just his company would calm my restlessness. I think that’s the part I hate the most. I’ve gotten so used to not being alone that I miss him immensely.

            My wall communication device whistles, and I get up to answer. “Kirk here.”

            “Starfleet’s responded sir. They said…to carry on with the mission to Yulce III until we can recover the captain.”

            “Damn,” I murmur. Though I suspected their response, a part of me was still hoping that they would allow the mission on Yulce III to be postponed. “Acknowledged, Lt. Thank you. I’ll be up in a moment.”

            “Yes, sir,” she responds, and the transmission ends. I look around the empty quarters once with despair before heading up to finish my shift.

 

            The next few days pass slowly. I’m irritable, I know, but I only let Bones see it. On the bridge, I’m the perfect officer, making sure to keep moral up and conversations going. I smile more often than I actually feel like doing, and I present myself as more optimistic than I actually am. At night, I barely sleep even with the medication I’m prescribed. I toss and turn and wake up at least once every hour, and I can’t lie still for more than a four-hour interval. I’m exhausted, but no matter how many breaks I take or efforts I make to sleep, none of them do anything to curb it. We’re getting ready to leave orbit for Yulce III, and I’m delaying departure as long as I can, hoping for something I know won’t come. It isn’t until the very last moment before we’ll arrive late that I allow Sulu to take us out. I watch the view screen with regret as the image of Uthira fades behind us. It only takes three hours to get from Uthira to Yulce III, and it seems like before I can blink, I’m getting suited up to beam down to the planet. It’s a simple scouting mission, nothing serious. We’re just checking up on the native population. I should’ve known nothing is ever that simple.

            As soon as we—Sulu, Bones, Uhura, and I—materialize on the surface, we’re getting shot at with phasers. I somersault out of the way while simultaneously pulling Bones down with me. We crouch behind a large rock as sparks fly around us. I scan the area, looking for Uhura and Sulu, and sigh with relief when I see them behind a nearby tree. I signal for phasers on stun, level two. I rise from my crouch, hitting three guys straight on, watching as they drop before ducking back under cover, narrowly missing a beam shot my way. “I guess the Klingon sphere of influence has reached father than we thought,” I say to Bones over the sounds of fire, and he gives me a sarcastic look, which I translate to ‘no shit, Sherlock’. He’s always so mean. I watch as Uhura takes out two guys, and I give her a nod as an appraisal. She smiles at me, and proceeds to shoot another two. She and Sulu have the better vantage point, and I risk standing again to take another couple of shots. I don’t duck quickly enough, though, because a phaser beam clips my arm, making it burn and go dead. “Shit,” I exclaim, more from frustration rather than pain. Bones begins to inspect the burn but I push him off. I’m just lucky it wasn’t my shooting arm. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for us to pick off the remaining attackers, but during the onslaught I get hit twice in the abdomen, effectively bruising and breaking at least two ribs.

            When we beam back up, Bones insists I report to sickbay so he can treat my arm and my ribs. It’s easier to just follow him rather than argue, so that’s what I do. Now that the adrenaline’s making its way out of my system, the fatigue is returning and Bones tells me three different times to pick up the pace in order to keep up with him. I hop up on a bio-bed when we arrive while he wraps my ribs, since he can’t really do anything more for that injury, and he treats the phaser burn on my left arm. When he’s finished, he just takes a step back and looks at me instead of telling me I’m free to go. After a moment, I say, “So, am I looking alright?”

            “You’re looking like hell, actually.” He comments.

            “I feel like you tell me that a lot,” I joke, but it doesn’t make him smile.

            “Way too damn often,” he replies gruffly. “You’re running yourself into the ground.”

            “I’m not trying to,” I tell him honestly. “Seriously, I’m not.”

            He sighs. “I know, kid. That’s why it scares me.”

            I hop off the bio-bed and clap him on the arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. I always am.”

            He grumbles and shoves at me, but it’s a half-hearted attempt. “You’re confined to quarters the rest of the day,” he warns me. “Don’t pull anything, Jim, I mean it.”

            “I won’t,” I promise, and head to my room as instructed. I eye the bed, and eye the shower, and stand debating for a moment before I decide to just collapse on the bed. It doesn’t take long to fall asleep, but just like every other night, it doesn’t last.

 

            I type up the report on Yulce III the next day, alerting Starfleet to the Klingons’ interference. The next week and a half passes by even slower than before. We’re now two days past the three week marker, and I am getting really fucking impatient. We’ve tried to hail the planet six different occasions now, but they didn’t go through any of the times. I’ve taken to sparring during all of my free time, which Bones yells at me about because it’s delaying the recovery of my ribs. I don’t really care, to be honest, because the pain’s a good distraction. I’m running out of opponents, though, because no one wants to fight me. Apparently, I kick ass when I’m impatient. Right now, I’m leaning against the armrest in Spock’s chair, sort of daydreaming and on the verge of nodding off. Uhura’s excited tone breaks through my trance-like state. “Commander! They’re hailing us!”

            I sit up straight immediately, tugging my uniform into place. “On screen.”

            “Commander Kirk,” Councilwoman Turka greets me.

            “Councilwoman,” I say coolly. “I hope you have good news. I’m not in the mood to play games.”

            “Now, Commander,” she admonishes, “our people are now on peaceful terms. We wish nothing more than your happiness, which is why we have deemed it appropriate to return your captain.”

            “Thank you,” I say, trying to keep the hostility from my voice. I must do a good job because she gives me a tooth-filled grin. It’s kind of repulsive on her rat face.

            “Of course,” she says graciously. “He should be ready for transport in five minutes, Commander. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

            Instead of replying, I just nod, not trusting myself with words. The transmission ends, and I forcefully try not to jump out of the chair and run off the bridge. “Mr. Sulu, you have the con.” I say as calmly as possible, and walk to the turbo-lift. The trip to the transporter room seems to take an eternity, but finally, finally, I arrive, and I’m relieved to see that Spock hasn’t arrived yet. I dismiss the ensign on duty, and take over the controls myself. When I receive the signal, I lock on to him immediately, watching with eagerness as his familiar outline appears on the pad. As soon as Spock materializes fully, I’m pacing from behind the controls over where he’s standing. He meets me half way, and I grip his upper arms tightly, scanning him from head to toe. The bond flares full force as soon as we touch, and I feel an overload of emotion: _relief, love, anxiety, concern, longing, adoration, curiosity._

            “Are you alright?” I ask, almost frantically. He nods once, but I push on. “Are you absolutely sure?” He nods again and opens his mouth to speak, but then I’m crushing him to me, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my face into his shoulder. He reciprocates the gesture, and my ribs protest from the pressure of his arms around me but I don’t care. I’m shaking, or he’s shaking, I’m not even sure because we’re so wrapped up in each other. I feel him press his cheek against my head, and I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. His hands rub up and down my back soothingly, and he stiffens when he feels the gauze wrapping through my shirt. He pulls out of my embrace, just far enough to look down at me.

            “You are injured?” He asks quizzically, and I shrug.

            “Not a big deal,” I clear my throat. “Yulce III didn’t go as planned. I left the report on your desk to review when you got back.”

            “I was absent for three weeks, Jim, which is a relatively short frame of time for you to harm yourself within.” He says exasperatedly.

            “Yeah, three weeks too long,” I reply, tightening my grip on his waist. “That was hell.”

            “I agree, it was most distressful. I found myself unable to concentrate many times due to my distance from you.”

            “If that’s your way of saying you missed me, then yeah, I freaking missed you too.” I let go of him briefly before grabbing his hand. “Come on, Captain, I believe you have duties to attend to.” I look at him meaningfully, and he blushes adorably. It’s rare that I can make him react so, and I revel in each time it happens. I lead him from the transporter room, and practically jump him once we’re alone in our quarters. He kisses me back hungrily, and pulls away way too soon.

            “I require a shower,” he whispers against my lips. “I desire your company.” A thrill shoots through me at his words, and we make our way to the bathroom without ever fully letting go of each other, while effectively leaving a trail of clothing in our wake. I reach in to turn the shower on and steam pours out almost instantly, and he pushes me backwards gently until I’m under the stream of water. We spend an insane amount of time in the shower, and when we finally reemerge and tangle in the bed, I’m feeling whole again. I wrap Spock in my arms, and he lays against my chest, listening to my heartbeat.

            “I’m never going to let you go,” I mumble against his ear, and he leans into me even more.

            “I do not wish you to,” he says quietly, and I plant a kiss on top of his silky hair, while he lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a purr; it sends a warm feeling reverberating through my chest. We both succumb to our weariness, keeping a tight hold on each other, and I sleep more soundly than all of the nights in the past weeks put together.


	17. We Are Meant To Be Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year anniversary... ;) <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I recently got a request for some more in-detail sex scenes, which I'm sorry to say isn't going to happen in this story. What I mean is, it makes me really uncomfortable to write, lol. So, sorry if you're looking forward to that :/ I hope it doesnt totally change your judgment on the story. This is mainly a fluff piece, not a sexy one, so again, sorry if that's what you're looking for. Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter, I think it's one of my favorites :)

There’s two days until our anniversary. Yep, only two, which means I’m freaking out. I finally found the perfect—and I do mean perfect—gift. It pertains to some memories Spock showed me in a meld once, and they were filled with some of his happiest times. I want to recreate that happiness, which is why I’ve persuaded Admiral Pike into ordering a routine check-up for the Enterprise at the nearest Starbase, which, incidentally, is where I’ve had my present delivered. And, also by coincidence, we are going to arrive right on our anniversary; totally not planned at all.

            Spock has no idea. I’ve purposefully thought of other things when we’re touching, and he hasn’t wanted to meld lately, presumably for the same reason I haven’t. I know that this means a lot to him, because bonds are much more significant to Vulcans than they are to humans, so I am suspecting that he’s gone to great lengths for me too, which is why he didn’t question Pike’s orders, since they were convenient for him as well. The next two days are going to be torture waiting.

            We arrive at Starbase 17 right on time, and I’m pretty much bouncing in my seat at the science station, anxious to beam down and pick up my package. I check my messages on my PADD for what seems like the billionth time, and finally I get a confirmation that the gift has arrived. After we are securely docked and ready for transport, I bolt off the bridge, and head to the transporter. I grab Carol along the way, so she can help me hustle it into my quarters without Spock seeing. Luckily, I sense he’s still on the bridge, no doubt giving me time to bring up his present without spoiling the surprise. Between the two of us, Carol and I have no trouble getting the box to my room. I thank her with a kiss on the cheek and then make her leave so I can set everything up. I end up just putting it on the bed and calling Spock to come meet me in our quarters. I sit on the bed and hold the gift in my arms, so that he’ll see it as soon as the door opens.

            I’m not really sure how I thought he would react, but I probably should have expected it. He freezes just inside the doorway and stares down at me with wide eyes, not saying anything. After a long moment, I get off the bed and hold it out for him to take. His eyes flick between me and the gift before cradling it gently in his hands.

            “I—I do not know how to respond,” he says unsteadily, looking down at the baby sehlat in his arms. She doesn’t squirm, just looks up at him with big green eyes, and wiggles her little ears. She’s so cute, I have to admit. She has long, copper colored fur, and her long incisors poke out minutely from under her lip, not looking menacing in the slightest. She looks just like a teddy bear.

            “I remembered how much you love I-Chaya, and I figured you might like to adopt this little girl.” I reach down to stroke her nose, and she lets out a little contented noise. “The breeder that I contacted said he was going to put her down, because she’s the runt,” I explain. “He said no one would take her, because she won’t get much bigger than a Terran cat. I thought, ‘Hey, this would be perfect for a couple on a starship’.” Spock still doesn’t say anything, just looks back and forth between the sehlat and me. “Spock, what do you think?”

            “Words do not express how grateful I am, Jim,” he says roughly, and looks down at the baby sehlat. I feel him open the bond, and all of the warmth he feels comes crashing into me. I’m not ashamed to say my eyes watered a bit. Okay, more than a bit.

            “We have to name her,” I say softly. “You can do the honors.”

            “I-Chera would be an honorable name,” he decides, and although I have no clue I nod my head in agreement.

            “I-Chera it is then,” I declare, and step closer to run my hands through her fur. Spock leans forward and kisses me gently, conveying love through every touch, and I make sure he knows how happy I am that he’s happy. I go behind the desk and pull out a bed I bought along with a couple of little toys, big enough so she can’t choke on them. “Scotty beamed up a year’s supply of sehlat food into one of the storage rooms, so we shouldn’t need pet food for a while. I even have a litter box, which I know is for cats but I figured we’d be able to teach her to use it.”

            “Sehlats are intelligent creatures,” Spock agrees. “I do not believe it will be a problem.”

            “Great,” I say elatedly, and set them back down so I can go back to his side. “Wait, this isn’t against regulation, is it?”

            “No, there are no limitations on pets as long as they do not compromise the efficiency of the crew, which I do not believe I-Chera will do.”

            “Great!” I say again, and reach down to let her nibble on my finger, and lean up to kiss the side of Spock’s jaw. “Happy anniversary,” I murmur, and I feel him transfer I-Chera into my arms. I look at him quizzically.

            “I have something for you as well, Jim,” he explains, and walks over to the top shelf in our closet—the one I can’t reach and Spock finds it hilarious—and reaches all the way to the back corner. My heart starts to thump uncomfortably in my chest, and Spock sends soothing reassurances through the bond. I-Chera also senses my anxiousness and shifts in my arms, snuggling her little face in to my neck, which does help me calm down a bit. Spock conceals whatever it is he has in his hand until he’s standing directly in front of me, and even then I have no idea what it is because he folds his arms behind his back.

            “Jim,” he starts, and I can barely hear him over the beating of my heart.

            I take a deep breath and give him a cheeky smile. “Spock.”

            He just looks at me, and I realize he’s nervous too. He doesn’t know how I’ll react, and it does wonders to boost my own anxiety. “Jim,” he says again, but pauses like he doesn’t know what to say. We stare at each other for a long moment before he continues. “I have recently become aware of something I believe we have not discussed. And I wish to.”

            “Okay…?” It’s not like Spock to beat around the bush.

            “I…I am not sure how to proceed from here,” he confesses.

            I shift I-Chera in my arms, and look him in the eye. “Spock, we’re bondmates, have been for a year. You can talk to me about anything, you know that.”

            He swallows. “Then I wish to know if you would be amenable to participating in the human tradition formally known as marriage.” It all comes out in a big rush of words, and I have to lean forward so I can catch it all.

            I blink for a few seconds, but it still just doesn’t compute for me. “Sorry, what?”

            “Jim, I wish to know if you would agree to join in matrimony,” Spock repeats, and as an afterthought, he brings his hand out to show me a small black box clutched in his fingers.

            “Oh,” I say blandly, but that’s about as far as my thought process goes.

            “If you do not desire this,” he says uncertainly, and goes to fold his hand behind his back once more.

            It’s like everything clicks at once and I reach out to grab his wrist. “No! Shit, wait just a second,” I tell him, just so I can get my thoughts in order. Everything is sort of blurring together and I can’t focus for the life of me. I’m overwhelmed, and there’s just so much sensory overload right now. The contact between us makes the bond more potent, and I can feel his apprehension and self-consciousness and nervousness leaking through his shields. Damn, I’m kind of being a dick, I realize. I also realize that I must be shielding, because he can’t sense what I’m thinking, otherwise he wouldn’t be feeling this way. I don’t know what to say, because I’m surprised and excited and I’m freaking out.

            “Jim, I realize my mistake,” Spock starts, trying to pull out of my grip. “My apologies—”

            “I didn’t think you wanted that,” I say abruptly, lowering my shields and trying to put him at ease. “That’s why I’ve never talked about it, not because I’ve never thought about it. I just figured it wouldn’t be that important to you, since we’re bonded the Vulcan way.”

            He looks taken aback for a moment. “Jim, if it is important to you, it would be to me also.”

            “I just…I don’t know, I’m not used to asking for anything,” I shrug awkwardly since I-Chera is still snuggled in my arms.

            “I could not refuse anything you request of me,” Spock says truthfully, and I feel his understanding and affection replace his worry.

            I pat his cheek lovingly, “I know. And yes, I will marry you. Again.”

            He holds out the box questioningly. “Do you wish to see the rings?”

            I shake my head, “Surprise me.”

            And we seal our second engagement with a kiss.

           

 

            A couple of weeks later and everything is settled. I-Chera’s presence is like a constant that I can barely believe we lived without before. It’s odd that she is so empathetic despite her species originating on Vulcan. I would have thought she’d be aloof and independent, but she enjoys attention even more than a cat, which I probably should have suspected considering how sweet Spock is when we’re alone. She’s taken to curling up in Spock’s lap when he’s filing reports, which is totally adorable, I might add. Every time it happens I can’t keep myself from walking over to stroke both of their ears, which earns me a weird growl-purr from I-Chera, but a raised eyebrow and an amused look from Spock. It’s kind of weird, because I never considered myself the type of guy who’d settle down, and now we’re headed to Earth in order to get married.

            I’ve notified my parents, and Sam and Aurelan, and Ambassador Sarek and Amanda of the date, and all responded with high hopes to attend besides Sarek, who regrettably cannot attend due to being off planet in a council meeting. It’ll be just a small ceremony, with the command team and our families being the only ones in attendance. Admiral Pike is going to officiate, and I made sure I let him know how grateful we are for his service. I honestly have no idea what anything is going to look like, because Uhura and Carol have taken over preparations, and they protect the details like they’re cult secrets. I only know the guest list, and the location—my parents’ farm house, where Spock and I first kissed. Even I have to admit that it’s going to be pretty damn romantic.

            The big day’s finally here, and we’ve just docked at Riverside. The rest of the crew is going on a two-week long shore leave, and there is a definable excitement in the air. I’m practically beaming as I go to collect our stuff from our quarters and then I head to meet Spock in the transporter room.

            We beam down together, directly inside the house per Uhura’s orders, so that we don’t see any of the decorations. Our parents are waiting inside, and the fact that Amanda comes forward to hug me before my own mother does stings. I know she still doesn’t approve, even after a year, and it’s made our relationship tense. She hugs me awkwardly after a moment, but the embrace doesn’t last long and it’s far from warm. Dad comes up and attempts the ta’al, and I laugh because he totally butchers it, but I know Spock is touched by his gesture. Sam pulls me into a tight hug, and Aurelan kisses my cheek while introducing her son, Peter. He’s about five, and I give him a high five before Carol rushes in to pull me away. “It’s time to get ready!” She squeals, and Nyota comes in to direct Spock away as well. We share a small smile before we’re ushered to opposite ends of the house. I notice along the way that every single blind and curtain has been drawn. The girls are certainly meticulous.

            I shower and attempt to make my hair look presentable, but that one damn curl keeps falling across my forehead, so I just give up on the attempt. I walk out of the bathroom in a pair of boxers, and stop when I see Carol sitting on the bed. She’s wearing a purple halter-top dress that billows out and flows down to her feet. I give her a wide grin. “You look gorgeous, like always,” I tell her, and she blushes just a bit.

            “Oh stop,” she smiles, and pats her up-do to make sure no loose strands are coming out. “Let’s get you dressed.” I put on the clothes she laid out for me, while Carol helps me straighten the collar and tie on my suit, and she inspects me with a slight grin. She turns me around to glance in the mirror and hugs me from behind. “Damn, Jim,” she says smugly—since she did pick out the suit. “You look amazing.” I have to agree. The suit is a crisp white, with a matching tie and shoes, and is tailored perfectly. Silver accents adorn the collar and the sleeves. I look taller, sleeker, and the white accentuates the blue in my eyes. I reach up to straighten my glasses, and then smooth a hand down my front. I turn to Carol, and plant a kiss on her cheek.

            “Thank you, for everything,” I tell her honestly, and she smiles.

            “Love you too, Jim,” She says sweetly, and grabs my hand. “I’m happy for you, sweetie.”

            I open my mouth to respond when Nyota bustles into the room, wearing a red one-shoulder dress that falls to her knees. Her dark hair is curled around her shoulders and she stops short when she sees me. “Wow, Jim, you look lovely!”

            “Right back at you,” I smile.

            “Anyways, I came to tell you that everything’s ready. Spock’s down at the altar, we’re just waiting on you.”

            “Wait, we’re not walking down the aisle together?” I ask.

            “Nope, we want the moment to be dramatic when you two first see each other.” Carol says next to me. A whole new bundle of nerves fills me as I take in this new information. I’ll have to walk the aisle alone. This was not part of the plan.

            “C’mon, Jim,” Nyota says softly. “We all love you, what’s there to be nervous about? Everyone’s waiting outside for you. Spock’s waiting for you.”

            “Spock, right,” I say, shaking my tense shoulders. “Let’s go.”

            Nyota walks ahead of us to take her place outside. Carol goes to follow her but I grab her arm gently before she can leave. “Wait, Carol. Could you…would you do me the honor of walking me down the aisle?”

            She looks at me hesitantly. “Wouldn’t you rather your mom…?”

            I shake my head firmly. “You’re the most important woman in my life. Please?”

            Her eyes shine lightly with tears, and she throws her arms around me. “Of course, Jim. Of course I will.”

            I return the hug tightly, then step back and offer her my arm. “Shall we?”

            She nods, and we step out of the door and onto the satin covered aisle leading around to the back of the house. I hear a little jingle and look down in surprise as I-Chera trots beside me, her little fangs sticking out cutely. Looks like I won’t be walking down alone after all and I’m glad I have my two favorite girls to escort me. As we turn the corner, I see a huge light blue tent set up, with the setting sun as the perfect backdrop. Fairy lights are set up everywhere, and although I don’t see a flower in sight, the setting is perfect. There’s a table set up on the side, but my attention is drawn to the semi-circle of people standing in front of me. My mom, Amanda, Aurelan and Nyota stand off to one side, while Bones, Scotty, Hikaru, Pavel, Peter, Sam and my dad stand opposite; Pike stands in the middle in his dress uniform. They’re all dressed nicely, but then my eyes fall on Spock. The sight of him literally steals my breath away.

            He’s standing rigidly, with his hands folded familiarly behind his back. Unlike me, he’s dressed in an onyx suit, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. And damn, does that suit do him justice. It fits him snuggly from his slim shoulders to his long legs. A formal black bowtie sits at his throat, and the dark colors offset his pale skin. It’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My throat goes dry, and for a moment I worry that I won’t be able to say my vows. He’s staring at his feet, looking a bit nervous until he hears Carol and me approach. His head snaps up and our eyes lock instantly, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face immediately, especially when I watch the tips of his ears turn green. We walk closer and closer, and then suddenly Carol is releasing my arm, and Spock is holding his hand out for me to take, which I do. As soon as we touch, I feel him drop his shields, and I follow suit. I feel the love and content radiate between us, and I know this is right. Us, we’re right, no matter what anyone has to say about it, no matter if my mother disapproves. We are destined to be together.

            Pike starts on about how it is his duty as admiral to grant this gift to us, and I feel guilty because I’m not really listening. I’m one hundred percent focused on Spock right in this moment. He’s my other half; my opposite; my equal. I’m struck suddenly by how good we must look beside each other. His dark to my light, and I realize that Carol probably did this on purpose. Pike stops suddenly, and Spock turns to me. “I do,” he says steadily, and Pike looks at me expectantly.

            “Oh, hell yeah. I absolutely do,” I nod resolutely, and a faint chuckle sounds from our friends.

            Pike just rolls his eyes. “The rings?”

            Bones steps forward, and holds out his palm. Two simple bands lay against each other, one gold and one silver. He gives me the gold, and Spock takes the silver one delicately. We turn to each other and wedge the bands on each other’s left ring finger. I realize the rings symbolize each other; mine is silver, to represent Spock, and his golden one is meant to be me. It’s like we’ll always have a small piece of each other, mentally and physically.

            “I now pronounce you formally wed,” Pike declares. “You may complete the ceremony with a kiss.” Applause ensues, and I turn to look at my husband.

            I lean towards Spock to give him a quick peck, because I know how he doesn’t like public displays of affection, but he surprises me by taking my face in both hands and kissing me decisively. I smile against his mouth and lean in while Nyota whistles. He pulls back, the faintest blush of green across his cheeks, and I brush my fingertips against the color while I beam at him. My new ring catches in the fading sunlight, and I realize just how perfect this moment is. We come out of our private bubble and turn so we can face our friends. Carol, of course, flings herself at me, and I laugh as she bursts into tears. “Happy tears,” she assures me, and latches onto Bones after he gives me a tight hug.

            “I’m glad for you, kid,” Bones smiles. “And Spock?” Spock raises an eyebrow. “Take good care of him.”

            “Bones,” I say exasperatedly. “We’re already bonded. This is just a formality.”

            “Nevertheless,” Spock cuts in. “To do anything less, Doctor, would be unacceptable, and I’m certain quite impossible.”

            “Well, good,” he says gruffly, and after patting my shoulder, walks away with Carol. Nyota comes up and hugs us both, while Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov shake our hands.

            “I’m proud of you, man,” Sam says, and pulls me in for another hug. Aurelan kisses both of our cheeks, and Peter giggles cutely and claps his hands.

            “This is just wonderful,” Amanda says tearfully, and embraces us both. “I’m so pleased for the both of you.”

            I kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Amanda. We’re so glad you could come.”

            “Indeed, Mother, it is pleasurable to see you,” Spock adds, and we chat for a bit until I see my mother approaching us hesitantly. Amanda pats Spock’s cheek and moves away to make room for my mother.

            “Jim,” she says tentatively. “I owe you an apology; you as well, Spock.” She looks down and shuffles her feet a bit before continuing. “I was wrong. So, so wrong. You didn’t make a mistake in choosing each other. I didn’t realize before how serious you were, and now that I do, I feel awful. And I am so sorry,” she says solemnly, and I see unshed tears in her eyes. “I hope you can forgive me despite the terrible things I said to you.”

            I glance at Spock quickly before stepping forward and wrapping my arms around my mother. She turns her face so as to not stain my suit, but she wraps her arms tightly around me, sniffling. “You’re still my mom,” I say softly. “And I still love you. I’m just glad you came to your senses.”

            “I’m an idiot,” she sniffles, and I laugh. She pulls back and walks over to stand in front of Spock. “I hope you can forgive me as well, Spock. I am so sorry for my previous behavior. You make my son happy, and that’s all that matters. Welcome to the family.”

            “I accept with utmost gratitude,” Spock says, and leans down so my mother can embrace him as well. The sight brings a smile to my face, and my dad comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

            “Well, isn’t that something,” he says warmly.

            “Did you have something to do with this?” I turn to ask him.

            “Surprisingly, no,” he chuckles. “This is all your mom. I’m proud of her.”

            “Me too,” I say as she finally releases Spock, and we watch as she links her arm with Dad’s and drags him off to the food table.

            I turn to smile at Spock. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

            “I would not wish it any other way, Jim,” he gives me that not-smile of his. A soft tune starts playing, and I recognize it from that night in the kitchen; the same slow song that brought us together. I whip around to gape at Carol, but she just winks and turns back to Bones. “I believe that is our cue to dance,” Spock says softly in my ear, and I shake my head in wonder as I lead him to the center of the tent. I pull him close and we start to sway, our jawlines brushing each other. I close my eyes and lean into him when I hear a tinkling sound, and I-Chera tries to weave her way in between us, effectively knocking me off balance. I would’ve fallen right on my ass if Spock hadn’t caught me in a perfect dip. I grin up at him mischievously and pull his lips down to mine, and all of our friends start clapping, and I faintly hear Bones grumbling good-naturedly. We stand up straight as the song ends, and make our way over to the table. We eat, I drink a glass of wine, and the night sails on into perfection.

            Just as the clock strikes midnight, everyone stops talking around us. I hear Carol banging her fork on her wineglass loudly, and we all turn our attention to her. “Okay, okay, I just want to toast our grooms, because they’re the two people I know that deserve happiness the most. And I think it’s time to wrap this party up! So, if you two will follow me, I have a present to give to you both.”

            “It’s from me too, you know,” Bones chimes in, and she grins.

            “Of course, dear, that was implied. Please come along,” She says, and practically drags him behind her. Everyone else files into my parents’ house, where I assume they’ll be either staying the night or beaming somewhere else. Spock and I glance at each other curiously before heading around the house after Carol and Bones. They lead us to a huge stretch limo with tinted windows, and Carol opens a door with a flourish. “Please, after you,” she gestures hurriedly, so Spock, Bones and I slide in, and she follows. She taps on the glass separating us from the driver, who turns around and winks, which isn’t all that surprising considering it’s Nyota, and we take off into the night.

            It’s not even a five minute drive before the vehicle stops, and Carol is practically bouncing in her seat. Even Bones looks excited for the grand reveal. Nyota opens the door for us and we all climb out, and I gasp when I see where we are. We’re standing in a huge plot of land, surrounded by tall prairie grass, and right in front of us is a little cabin-style house, made to fit two people perfectly. I clutch at Spock’s arm and he feels just as shocked as I am. “We figured you wouldn’t want to spend your honeymoon in your parents’ house,” Bones says, his tone just a bit smug.

            “Now you have somewhere else to call home besides the Enterprise,” Carol says softly, and comes up to kiss my cheek, and hug Spock tightly. “Congrats,” she whispers, and then drags Bones back to the limo before we can even say thank you. I turn to Spock to say who knows what but I don’t even get the chance. He stops me with an intense kiss, and I’m gone. We fumble towards the house, stumbling in the darkness. I feel kind of guilty because we don’t even stop to look around the house we just barrel for the nearest bedroom. I mean, I don’t really dwell on it for long, because the way we’re kissing right now is making it hard for me to think. We find a room with a bed, but then we have to stop because it takes forever to get out of the elaborate suits Carol dressed us in. We’re both breathing heavily and I’m laughing as we struggle to undress ourselves, and finally we’re both clad in only our boxers. We come together again, but it’s not rushed now. We have all the time in the world. I want to draw this moment out, cling to it and never let it end. I stretch on to my toes to kiss him leisurely, one hand on the back of his neck and the other resting on his side, directly over his heart. His arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer, and I’m not really sure where I end and he begins. We move to the bed and lie down, our arms still wrapped around each other, and we sleep. No words are spoken, the bond blown open wide between us. We just sleep, no sex, because we don’t need it. This is enough. Just us.

 

            When I wake up in the morning, there’s faint sunlight drifting through the curtains in the room. I’m lying on my stomach, my face resting on the pillow on top of my arms, with Spock’s arm draped across me. I try to roll over and find that I can’t. I lift my head slightly and I catch a glimpse of a bundle of copper fur settled between my shoulder blades. I chuckle, because I should have known I-Chera would follow us, and her favorite place to sleep is tucked under my arm. Given my position, however, I guess she had to make due. I think my light laughter woke her up though, because she climbs up my back to stick her nose right in my ear, which tickles and really makes me laugh. I feel Spock stir beside me, and the way my head is turned I see him open one eye, and he smiles at I-Chera and me. He rolls onto his back, releasing me, and plucks I-Chera off of my shoulders so he can cuddle her to his chest. I look at them both for a long moment, and then lean over to plant a kiss on them both. Then I get up to pee because damn I really have to go.

            When I come back out, Spock hasn’t moved, and I give him a small smile from the doorway. “What would you say to a little exploring? I’m curious to see what all they stocked this place with.”

            “I would say yes,” he replies, and I roll my eyes at his formal response. I take a minute to put on a pair of sweat pants, and he gets out of bed gracefully with I-Chera still held to his chest. He hands her to me so he can put pants on as well, and I bury my face in her soft fur, making her growl-purr in response. I love her little rounded ears, so I rub them in my fingers while Spock also puts on a shirt. Him and his Vulcan modesty. I glance down at the gold ring hanging around his neck with a smile. He decided to wear it on a chain instead of on his finger, since his hands are so sensitive. I don't have objections, though I prefer to keep mine on my hand instead. We tour the house when he’s finished, and the layout is quite simple, just perfect for us. One floor not counting the basement and it’s really open. There aren’t a lot of walls or doorways; it’s mainly built like a large apartment area. The kitchen, living room, and dining room are all joined in one big open space, and then down a small hallway are two bedrooms and a bathroom. The furnishings are all wooden, and it’s designed to look like a log cabin in the woods. Little forest green accents are everywhere, and I know Carol tried not to go overboard while decorating. It’s homey, and I love it.

            “They did really well,” I admit, and Spock nods in agreement. I push him playfully to the bar set up in the kitchen and tell him to sit on a barstool. He obliges with a raised eyebrow, and I deposit I-Chera into his arms, but she just jumps down and goes to explore in her own way. I go into the kitchen and start making breakfast, because I noted that they had filled the fridge with groceries as well. They really did think of everything. I make a couple of strawberry rhubarb crepes for both of us, and we eat breakfast in comfortable silence. I think that’s one of the things I love most about Spock: he doesn’t feel the need to talk. We can both just sit and enjoy each other’s company. We lounge around the rest of the day, and have a _really heated_ rest of the night. It’s nice to have our own space for our little family, and I come to the conclusion that I am the luckiest guy in the multiverse. I just hope the rest of shore leave doesn’t pass by too quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I-Chera is pronounced EYE-SHARE-UH, for anyone wondering :) Sorry if the chapter kind of ends abruptly, I didn't know how to end it so yeah ;)
> 
> Also, I didn't really address it, but the entire command crew, Pike, plus Kirk's family and Spock's parents pitched in some credits for the cabin, but Bones and Carol put down the main deposit. Plus, since they were buying it for Starfleet's best command team, they got a discount. c:


	18. A Walk in Each Other's Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock get's injured and Jim has to take his place as Captain on an away mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really short, sorry! Couldn't think of much more I could stuff into this one. It's mainly just a filler chapter, and there's not much fluff or angst so sorry :/ It kind of sucks, I'll be the first one to admit. Hopefully the next couple of chapters wont be so bad. Lots of Love

“So when are you going to get hitched?” I ask Bones, as we’re sitting in his office eating breakfast. It’s been a month since shore leave ended, and falling back into the same routines is becoming pretty easy.

            “If you must know,” he says exasperatedly. “I was thinking of buying a ring.”

            “Well, that’s a relief,” I respond, propping my feet up on his desk. “Carol keeps dropping hints everywhere. It’s making me feel bad for the poor girl.”

            “I just need some more time,” he insists, swatting my feet. “Get your dirty feet off my desk!”

            “You guys have been together longer than me and Spock,” I point out. “It makes her feel like you don’t want to be with her.”

            “Not everyone can have a universe-shattering love, Jim,” he retorts. “I don’t know what it is about you two, but you just click. Carol and I have to work for it, like normal people. I just don’t want to take such a big step too soon. Divorce won’t be any easier the second time around.”

            “Alright, now you’ve gone and made me feel like an ass,” I say sheepishly.

            “You are an ass,” he agrees, but I know he doesn’t mean it. I start to apologize but he cuts me off. “Don’t worry about it, Jim. I know you’re just looking out for us. But it’ll happen when it’s right, okay?”

            I nod, and then glance at the chronometer. “Ah hell, I’m late. Spock’s going to be pissed.”

            Bones rolls his eyes, “I highly doubt that. The captain never gets angry with you.”

            “You’d be surprised,” I mutter, and all but run to the turbo-lift.

            I arrive on the bridge right on time, literally right on the nose. Spock gives me a raised eyebrow as I make my way to my seat hurriedly. I give him a quick explanation via our bond and I’m relieved that he seems to be more amused than irritated. The ship assumes orbit around Altra about half-way through my shift, and the captain assembles a beam down team consisting of him, me, Sulu, and a security guard named Lt. Reins. It’s just a quick survey mission; we get a few samples, take a few notes, and then we leave. The planet itself isn’t inhabited by any intelligent life forms that we’re aware of, but it has been cataloged that some violent native beasts on the surface will attack if provoked. We won’t be going anywhere near their habitats, but we have to keep an eye out just the same. I can sense that Spock is kind of apprehensive of taking me along, because I attract danger like nothing else. It kind of bugs me that he thinks of me as something easily breakable, but I guess compared to him I probably am. As my duty as Chief Science Officer, however, I’m the most qualified to beam down on this mission, which overrides any worries that might compel him to make me stay aboard.

            We beam down and the first hour or so of looking around goes fine. We test some plants and scan some little bug-like creatures, and generally just look around. The planet is covered in huge-ass foliage in vibrant shades of blue and green. They all have sort of a fuzzy look to them, but the leaves on the plants are rough to the touch. It’s hard to walk around, there’s so much vegetation around us, and that means there’s a lot to survey. I wander in a little deeper than everyone else, which Spock might yell at me for later, but something catches my eye. I’m in the middle of scanning this tiny little flower at me feet when I feel alarm course through the bond. It startles me so bad that I almost drop my tricorder, and I whip around to jog back in the direct that I came. _Spock!_ I yell mentally and almost at once the panic stops filtering into my head. That doesn’t placate me, however, and I just quicken my pace. I turn a corner and run right into Spock. I almost fall over but he keeps me upright, and he glares at me furiously. I now understand what the alarm was for.

            “Er…hey,” I say sheepishly.

            “Commander,” he says coolly, and I know I’m in trouble. “What are you doing so far from the landing party?”

            “There was an uncatalogued species of plant that caught my eye,” I say, somewhat defensively. “I walked farther in than I thought. My apologies, Captain. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

            “Please refrain from doing so again,” he says, and it’s not as cold as before. I feel relief replace his anger and I pat his hand reassuringly where it’s resting on my arm.

            “I’m fine,” I assure him. “I’m not so easily damaged as you seem to think.”

            “I am aware. However,” he says drily, “you have a talent for getting yourself into trouble. It is more comforting to me when you are in my sight, and I know I can come to your aid more quickly.”

            “Alright, so no more adventures,” I say playfully, and he almost rolls his eyes—almost.

            “I believe it is time to transport back to the ship,” he comments, and proceeds to pull me back to the landing party. I smile at his protectiveness, so I let him drag me along because I know it makes him feel better to keep a grip on me. We find Sulu and Lt. Rein, and Spock signals Scotty to beam us up. We rematerialize on the transporter pad, and I look over to see Spock swaying in his place.

            I reach out to grab his arms, worry increasing rapidly within me. “Spock! What’s wrong?!” He doesn’t answer, just blinks at me confusedly. I yell to Scotty to call a medical team. Spock’s knees start to buckle and I support his weight, easing him down to the floor. “Hey, Spock, stay with me, okay? Shit, Spock, and you say I’m the one that causes trouble.” He’s sweating, which I know is a bad sign because he never sweats, and it seems like an eternity before a med team arrives with a stretcher. I help them lift him onto it, and M’Benga gives him a sedative as we rush to the sickbay. They crowd around him as we get there, and I head straight to Bones’ office so I won’t be in the way. He’s not there, of course; he’s helping with the captain, but it makes me feel better to be close and someplace familiar. I pace around in the room until Bones comes in to find me.

            “He’ll be okay, Jim,” is the first thing he says, and I’m grateful for it. You’d think I’d have gotten used to this scenario: me worrying while Spock lies on a bio-bed, but it never gets any easier no matter how many times it happens.

            “What happened?” I ask, because during the commotion I didn’t think to use the bond, and now it won’t do much good because Spock’s passed out.

            “The damn fool pricked his finger on an unknown plant, and instead of coming up to get it checked out, he decided it was _logical_ to remain on-planet. Well, he was allergic to a bacterium that coated the plant’s stem, and his immune system went bat-shit crazy trying to fight it off. It almost sent him into cardiac arrest. I think you’re rubbing off on him, Jim, because that was a damn scary allergic reaction. Almost as bad as some of yours.”

            “But he’s fine now?”

            “Yeah, I knocked him out for a few hours to give him some time to recover from it, but I’ll probably release him later tonight. You can go see him now that the nurses are done being in the way.”

            I clap him on the shoulder as I walk by. “Thanks Bones. You’re the best.”

            “Damn straight I am.” He mutters, and I leave his office. I find Spock immediately, placed in the farthest corner so as to not draw attention to him. I drag a chair over and plop down into it with a sigh. It’s going to be a long couple of hours.

            I’m filing the report on Altra when my PADD beeps at me, signaling that I have a message. I bring it up and scan through it, and swear when I read the contents: orders for a new mission already. The planet next to Altra, called Ultra similarly, wants to negotiate for dilithium crystals with the Federation. The only problem is, they want to deal with the captain and his first officer directly. No other contact is permitted. And Ultrons are known to be hostile creatures. I want to bang my head on the wall. The travel from Altra to Ultra will take less than two hours, and I don’t know if Spock will even be conscious, let alone strong enough to beam down. I send Scotty the orders and tell Sulu to plot a course. We’ll have to figure something out.

            Spock is conscious by the time we arrive at Ultra, but he’s weak, and definitely not happy with the solution I’ve come up with. “Jim, this is unnecessary. I am strong enough to handle the affairs,” he protests, after I explain my plan.

            Before I can say anything, Bones steps in. “Like hell you are! You can barely stand up on your own, Spock! Now, I can give you a stimulant to help with that, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you take on negotiations with the Ultrons.”

            “Spock, you have to be there in order to help me out, but this is the only way we can look cool and collected while down there. I don’t doubt your abilities,” I add quickly, before he can butt in, “but Spock, this is dangerous, and you’re still recovering. No matter how many times you protest, regulations still state that the captain is to take all precautions necessary to ensure his safety. I’m just a science officer; Starfleet deems me easily replaceable. The fact that you two don’t think so doesn’t change that.”

            “Jim,” Bones says, taken aback by my words, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

            “I’m not being self-deprecating here; I’m just stating the facts, Bones. Spock, you know I’m right.” He does, but I can sense his strong disapproval coming off of him in waves. “Bones has only cleared you for light duty, which means I’m in charge of this away-mission right now. I know you hate it, but it’s our only option. Bones, give him the stimulant so we can get this over with.”

            Bones gives it to him willingly, and Spock does not look happy. The three of us walk to our quarters so Spock and I can change. I put on his formal green command uniform, which is a little tight, and he puts on my blue one, which in turn is a little loose on him. I have to admit, he looks pretty good in science blues. We walk to the transporter room, and a few passing ensigns look confused at our change in colors. Scotty’s standing behind the controls with an apprehensive look on his face. I give the signal, and we beam down to meet with the Ultrons.

            There are two of them waiting for us as we beam down, and I step forward. “I’m Captain James T. Kirk,” I announce, which feels a little strange, but I continue on anyways. “And this is my First Officer, Commander Spock.”

            The Ultrons, despite me knowing are hostile creatures, do not look violent. They have neon pink skin, with tufts of orange hair, and really large noses, but otherwise they’re humanoid. The one on the left steps forward. “I am Kiro, this is Loril. We would like to skip formalities and go right to making our deal.”

            “If you insist,” I say, nodding my head, and follow them into the small shack they have set up in front of us. I’m about to step through the threshold when Spock grabs my arm. _It is a set-up,_ he says in my mind. _Be prepared for combat. I hear others waiting for our arrival inside._ I nod to let him know I understand, and step cautiously inside. Just like he predicted, three other Ultrons join the first two. “What is the meaning of this?” I demand, stepping directly in front of Spock.

            “We do not care about your need of dilithium, Captain,” he spits. “We are much more concerned with the reward we’ll get for turning you over to the Klingons.”

            “I hate to burst your bubble, but that’s not going to happen,” I say, and one of them lunges at me. I take him out easily with a fast kick to the solar plexus, but then his friends join the fight. I pull out my phaser only to have it knocked out of my hand in the struggle. I drive a swift elbow to the nose of one, and he drops, squealing in pain. A larger one gets his arms around me and squeezes, and I feel my ribs begin to bruise. I break his hold, and take a few steps back to put some distance in between us. He has a club in his hand, and he’s knocking it menacingly against the floor. I back up another step, fooling him into thinking I’m retreating, but then I jump up and spin-kick him right in the head. He staggers back, and I advance, throwing a quick punch to his gut and another to his already injured nose. He roars in pain, and I drop low, effectively knocking his legs out from under him. The Ultron lands hard and I place a good kick to his head, rendering him unconscious. I look around for Spock and see that he’s taken down the remaining two men, but he’s breathing hard and leaning against the wall for support.

            I run over to his side immediately, and sling one of his arms over my shoulder. We walk out of the house quickly, and signal Scotty before anyone else can turn up. We hear yelling in the distance, but we rematerialize on the Enterprise before we can find out what it means.

            But…something’s wrong. Yes, definitely wrong. Why is my arm slung around someone’s shoulders? I don’t understand, and I’m disoriented. And why am I out of breath? I look over at the person holding me up and it’s…me. No, hold up. Why am I looking at myself? Déjà vu creeps in a bit from my last encounter with myself, but I look down and see I’m wearing my blue uniform, but it’s huge on me. Why? I thought Spock was wearing my uniform? Aren’t I supposed to be wearing his? Spock vaguely registers in the back of my head, but I’m dizzy and I can’t focus right. I hear my voice yelling at Scotty, but all l I know is for some reason we’re beaming back down to the planet. I see a group of Ultrons and a phaser fire before we’re back in the transporter room again, and I’m dropping to my knees as I pass out.

            I wake up in my quarters, with Spock lying next to me. He’s staring, which would be creep if I wasn’t used to it by now. “So what the hell happened?” I ask him, as the confusing events come back to me.

            “It seems the transporter malfunctioned as we materialized aboard the ship.” Spock tells me.

            “That seems to happen a lot,” I comment, and he nods.

            “I believe it caused us to switch bodies temporarily, and when Mr. Scott transported us back down in order to rectify the mistake, a group of Ultrons had gathered, and one stunned your body just as we transported back aboard.”

            Ah. That explains a lot. No wonder I was so disoriented when we beamed up the first time: I was experiencing Spock’s fatigue without his mental abilities to control it. That also explains how I was able to look at myself. Weird. “Weird,” I say, and he nods again.

            “I agree, it was most disconcerting.”

            “It’s a good thing they thought I was the captain, though,” I point out. “If they would’ve stunned you, it probably would’ve sent you into cardiac arrest.”

            “Indeed, I have to admit that your strategy was insightful. I still do not agree with it, however, but it was successful.”

            I yawn, “Man, I don’t know why, but getting stunned always makes me really tired.”

            “Rest,” he urges, and I close my eyes willingly.

            I give him a small smile. “Yes, sir,” I murmur. I like him much better as my captain rather than the other way around.


	19. You'll Be Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation: Annihilate!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst follows: You have been warned.

“I just can’t understand it,” I say, frustrated, as Spock leans over my shoulder to glance at the star chart. “There’s almost a direct line of civilization loss due to insanity all across this section here, but there isn’t a cause for it. They just…go crazy and die.”

            “Where did this originate, Commander?”

            “As far as I can tell, it started here, at the Beta Portilin system. It’s spread to Levinius Five, and Theta Cygni Twelve over the centuries, and most recently Ingraham B, two years ago.”

            He turns away from me to address Uhura. “Lt, have you established contact with Deneva presently?”

            “Negative, Captain. I’ve signaled them multiple times but no response sir.”

            “Acknowledged, continue the attempts.”

            “Aye, sir.”

            He turns back to me. “Fascinating,” he says, inspecting the chart closer. I don’t find it fascinating; I find it frightening, considering whatever it is is headed straight for Deneva, the planet that Sam, Aurelan and Peter happen to live on. And the way the planet’s not responding to our hails…well, I’m worried we’re too late. I’m shielding Spock because I know he’ll think I’m emotionally compromised, and to be honest I’m not even sure if he knows Sam lives there. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever told him. Now’s not exactly the best time for the information to come to light, either. My PADD beeps, signaling I have a new message. I turn away from Spock to check it, and I see that it’s Bones.

            **We’re headed for Deneva?** It reads.

            I type back: **Yes.**

            **Are you going to visit Sam?**

**Bones, we think the planets going insane. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.**

**You okay, kid?**

**Fine, Bones, I’m fine. Just worried, that’s all.**

**Let me know if you need me.**

            I feel a headache coming on, and I think maybe I ought to go down to sickbay, but I decide against it. I settle for massaging my temples lightly and turning back to the data. I about fall out of my chair in surprise when Uhura calls out, “Sir, there’s a Denevan ship headed straight for this galaxy’s sun!” Spock leaves my side and goes to her station.

            “Establish contact, Lt.”

            “Here sir,” she replies, and the transmission flows into the air.

            “ _Finally, we’re free! Thank God, no more pain.”_

“Mr. Sulu, plot an interception course,” Spock commands, but Sulu shakes his head unexpectedly.

            “I can’t, sir. They’re too close to the sun’s gravimetric range. If we attempt to stop them we’ll get pulled in and disintegrate.”

            “Very well,” Spock responds stiffly, and I know he hates that we can’t do anything to stop them.

            “Sensors show they burned up, sir,” I report, trying to keep my voice from shaking. If that man was crazy enough to fly into the sun, what does that mean for Sam?

            “Warp six to Deneva, Mr. Sulu,” Spock commands, and Sulu nods.

            “Aye sir, ETA approximately two hours, sir.”

            “Captain,” I say, looking at Spock suddenly. “I request to be part of the landing party.”

            “Acknowledged, Commander; your presence will be necessary.” He looks at me inquiringly, but I just reinforce the strength of my mental shields.

            “May I prepare for departure?” I question, and he nods, this time with a veiled look of concern. I bolt from my chair to the turbo-lift, eager to get to the privacy of our quarters. I know I’m being unfair to him, but I can’t seem to stop. It’s my first instinct to keep my emotions to myself and even after a year I haven’t gotten over that. I just need to be alone so I can pull myself together enough to beam down and look for Sam. I get to my quarters and head for the shower, knowing the steam will clear my senses and allow me to think. I turn the water pressure up so high that it hurts, and I stand under the stream for a long time, allowing it to loosen my tense muscles and focus. Once I feel like I’m stable enough, I get out and dry myself off, while putting on a fresh uniform. When I meet Spock and the team in the transporter room, he doesn’t say anything about my wet hair, but I know he notices.

            We go down to the planet, and not more than a minute later a group of men come running at us with hostile intentions, but screaming that they don’t want to hurt us. The men are carrying large metal batons, but it doesn’t take long for us to drop them with our phasers set on stun. Bones scans them and reports that their nervous systems are off the charts, despite them being unconscious.

            A woman’s scream fills the air and it sends chills up my spine, because the tone sounds vaguely familiar. I take off towards the noise, despite Spock yelling after me, and I feel the team in hot pursuit. I burst into a building and distantly note all of the bodies lining the floor, but my eyes set on the screaming woman, standing on a chair in the corner and I dart to her side. “Aurelan,” I shout over her, trying to calm and restrain her flailing arms. “Aurelan, it’s me! It’s Jim! We’re here to help, just calm down.” I pick her up off the chair and hug her to my chest, but she’s resisting my hold and sobbing at the same time. Tears threaten to sting my own eyes, but suddenly, Bones is beside me with a hypo and she falls unconscious in my grasp. I lay her gently in the chair, and turn to see the team surveying the rest of the room. I can feel Spock looking at me, but I’m more preoccupied with the two figures I see lying on the floor near me.

            “Oh, God, no,” I plead under my breath as I make my way over to them. I kneel beside the man and flip him over, checking for a pulse before I even look at his face. When I don’t find any evidence of life, I force myself to check his identity. The room spins around me and I have to place a hand on the floor to steady myself. It’s Sam. Oh, God, it’s Sam. I close my eyes for a moment and force the dizziness to stop. Then I force myself to my feet and go check on Peter beside him. He’s still breathing, and I nearly gasp in relief. “Bones,” I call over my shoulder. “He’s alive, Bones!” Bones rushes to my side and gives him a sedative too, despite him already being unconscious. I signal for two of the security officers to carry Aurelan and Peter aboard, and I do my best not to think about how Sam won’t be going with them. Oh, Sam. Jesus.

            When the rest of the room is proclaimed empty, the security officers file out—Bones too—until it’s just Spock and me. I stare at the wall until he comes to my side, a hand lightly touching my elbow. “Jim—” He starts, but I turn away, not wanting to deal with this right now. I know he’s worried about me, and I love him desperately for it, but if I come to terms with Sam right now I don’t know if I’ll be able to continue this mission.

            “Captain, I think the rest of the team needs us outside,” I deadpan, and side step him to go outside. Bones tries to stop me but I shrug off his outstretched hand, proceed to the beam up point. I signal Scotty, and I dematerialize, and as soon as I’m on the transporter pad I run for sickbay before I can throw up in the corridor.

            I heave the contents of my stomach into the garbage can in Bones’ office, and then I make my way to the space between Aurelan and Peter’s beds to wait for Bones. He bustles in after a moment, the captain on his heels, and Bones gives me a pity-filled look. I don’t want his pity. I want him to save these two people. He runs a few tests and goes off to the lab, and Spock just stares at me until I look at him. He doesn’t try to approach me, and for that I am eternally grateful.

            “It was pretty obvious they tried to lock themselves in,” I comment. “Do you think the madness is caused by a being? Aurelan was screaming, ‘Don’t let them get us!’ when I found her.” I won’t talk about him, I won’t.

            “I believe so. It seems to be the only logical explanation.”

            “I didn’t see any hostile life forms down there, did you?”

            “Negative.”

            “Hm,” I ponder, as Bones comes back into the room. “Anything, Doctor?”

            “Nothing. Nothing came up on the scans except for the fact that they’re both in intense pain without a known cause. It’s freaky, Jim. I don’t understand it.”

            “You cannot assist them?” Spock asks, and Bones shakes his head regrettably.

            “I don’t even know what’s going on,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

            “Perhaps, if we brought Aurelan to consciousness, it would help our investigation,” Spock suggests, and Bones shrugs.

            “I can do that, but she’ll be in a lot of pain.” They both look at me, and I look down at her.

            “Just do it,” I sigh, and he injects her with a stimulant. Almost immediately she starts to thrash, but I hold down her arms and murmur soothing things until she stops.

            “Jim?” She whimpers softly. “Jim, is that you?”

            “It’s me,” I reply tenderly. “I’m here, Aurelan. It’s okay.”

            “Sam’s dead!” She cries loudly, and I can’t stop myself from visibly flinching. “He’s dead, Jim!”

            “I know,” I say, and I try my hardest to keep my voice from sounding broken. I don’t know if I succeed. “But Peter’s here and he’s okay. You’re okay, just calm down. Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

            “They came eight months ago Jim, on a ship from Ingraham B. It wasn’t their fault, but the things were horrible! Oh, God! The pain! They use it to control us. They need us to build ships for them. You have to stop them, Jim!” She starts thrashing in my hold, and her vitals start to go through the roof. The thrashing turns to convulsing, and Bones injects her with something but her shaking doesn’t stop. She lets loose a terrible shriek that tears at my heart. Aurelan stills suddenly in my arms and the monitor above her beeps monotonously.

            “Aurelan?” I shake her gently, but she doesn’t respond. “Aurelan!”

            I know she’s dead.

            “She’s…gone,” Bones says softly, and grips my shoulder tightly. I press my face into her stomach, her body still warm, and I realize that I’m trembling. I take a deep breath and regain control. I release her and stand up abruptly, knocking Bones hand off my shoulder.

            “I’m going to the lab,” I deadpan, and leave before either of them can say anything. I’m going to find out what did this, and I’m going to find a cure. I run numerous tests on the samples Bones took from her and I end up finding a small tendril, not unlike a strand from a jellyfish. I run a few more tests on it, and discover it binds to nearly any living thing it comes into contact with. It must be what’s infecting the people of Deneva. The most curious thing about the tendril is that it looks like it’s part of an organism. I command the computer to tell me where Spock is, and I’m not surprised to see he’s still in sickbay. He’s probably talking to McCoy. I run there as fast as I can and report my findings. I see they’ve moved Aurelan’s body, and the thought sends a pang through my chest before I can squash my train of thought.

            “I need a bigger specimen,” I insist. “We have to go back to the surface.”

            “Dammit, Jim, you can’t just go looking for this thing. It causes madness. What if you get infected too?” Bones yells, gesturing wildly with his hands.

            “I’ll be careful. Spock, you know we need this information.”

            He seems to consider for a moment, and then nods.

            “You’re out of your Vulcan mind!” Bones explodes. “You’re actually going to let him go down there? Look, Jim, I don’t think you’re thinking clearly, especially after what’s happened.”

            My expression goes cold. “I’ll meet you in the transporter room, Captain.” And I stalk out of the sickbay.

            We have a security team compiled and ready to go within minutes, and we all beam down to look for the invasive species. It doesn’t take long for us to stumble on a piece of art covered in odd looking shapes. I get closer than I probably should, and Spock hisses at me, but I stay where I am so I can scan one into my tricorder. No data shows up. The things look kind of like plastic pancakes, but they’re covered in slime. It’s disgusting. Spock comes up to pull me back and suddenly a shape flies off the sculpture and lands on Spock. He cries out and falls to his knees, and I lunge at him, catching his weight before he collapses to the ground. I peel the thing off him and throw it to the ground while I try to get Spock to stop convulsing.

            “DAMMIT!” I yell, and one of the female security guards jumps. “SOMEONE CALL SCOTTY NOW!” I point to a random officer and gesture to the thing lying lifeless beside me. “PUT THAT THING IN THE CONTAINER AND LET’S GO!” I can’t seem to stop yelling, and suddenly we’re back on the transporter pad, medical team at the ready. I lift Spock onto a stretcher in what is a morbid routine, and follow the team back to the sickbay.

            I’m freaking out. Everything inside me is threatening to burst out, and I’m not sure I can hold it in right now. First Sam, then Aurelan, and now…no. I won’t lose Spock too. I can’t. Bones is scanning him now, and I’m right there beside him, watching his every move.

            “Well, Jim, after seeing you’re example I’ve managed to locate whatever that thing put inside the captain. It’s ‘feelers’ attach to the nervous system, and uses pain to control its host. I’ve knocked Spock out for a while, but I don’t know how long it will last.”

            “I’m heading back to the lab,” I say curtly, and Bones grabs my arm.

            “Jim, I think we need to talk,” he starts, but I yank my arm out of his grip.

            “We can talk once I’ve fixed this,” I say coolly.

 

            I race back into the sickbay hours later, and I’m about bursting with hope. “Bones, I think I found it!” I holler, and he comes rushing out of his office. “Light,” I say hurriedly. “I think light kills it. I’d need to try it on an infected person, though.”

            “Jim, the light chamber isn’t exactly safe to just stick a person in.”

            “I believe I can be of service,” Spock states from his place on the bed. I didn’t even realize he was conscious. “I will be able to withstand stronger light rays than most humans, Doctor, making me the ideal test subject.”

            “Spock…” I start, but he shakes his head.

            “Jim, I must do this. Let me help.”

            There’s nothing else we can do. We all head towards the light chamber, and Bones and I put on safety goggles. Spock can’t wear any in case it messes with the experiment. I squeeze Spock’s hand firmly before shutting him in the chamber, and flipping the switch. I shield my eyes from the onslaught of brightness before quickly flipping the switch again. I open the door eagerly, but my heart plummets when Spock staggers out blindly. I catch him in my arms, steadying him, but I know we’ve taken away his sight. Shit.

            “Jim, although I am rendered quite blind, you should be pleased to know that the invader has perished. I am no longer under its influence. The pain has subsided.”

            Guilt—horrible, gut-wrenching guilt—fills my stomach, and I nearly throw up from the feel of it. It worsens when Bones looks at me sadly.

            “Jim…only the UV light affects the creature. We unnecessarily threw the whole spectrum at him.”

            I help Spock into a chair, and release him as soon as he’s seated, my hands burning from our contact shamefully. Spock’s blind, because of me. I blinded Spock. The thought just floats around and around in my head. If he’s blind, he can’t captain a starship. If he’s blind, he can’t see me. Jesus Christ. What have I done?

            I vaguely register Spock talking into a communicator, giving orders for satellites and mirrors to be stationed around the planet to direct UV rays onto the surface, but I’m not listening. Bones is too busy scanning Spock to notice that I leave the room in a daze. I make my way up to the observation deck and collapse in front of the view of Deneva: the planet that’s ruined my life. I don’t know how long I sit there feeling numb and deliberately not thinking when I hear the door slide open. I don’t move, I don’t acknowledge the newcomer’s presence until they’re reaching down and pulling me to my feet. I finally look up to see Spock, and the fact that he’s here shocks me out of my stupor.

            “You can see?” I ask, almost not willing to believe it.

            “Indeed,” he says gently. “Apparently Vulcans have a dormant inner eyelid that provided unknown protection. The blindness was temporary.”

            I grip his upper arms tightly, and lean forward to rest my forehead against his chest. I realize I’m shaking, and after the realization hits it turns to sobbing. All of the pent up emotion over the last day comes surging out, and I can’t do anything to stop it. My frustration, my guilt, my anger, my relief, my grief, my worry; it all comes crashing and pouring out into tears that soak Spock’s command shirt. He wraps me up in his arms, crushing me to him and resting his chin on my shoulder. After a few deep breaths I manage to get a hold of myself again, but I don’t move to let go of Spock and he doesn’t release me. We stand like that for a long time, him holding me together, until I feel like my broken pieces are stitched together enough for me to walk back to our quarters.

            I take another long, hot shower, but this time Spock joins me, and I share memories of my childhood with him. Memories of Sam and I playing games, Sam beating up my bullies, Sam trying to comfort me after Tarsus, Sam leaving me to go to Starfleet, me joining Starfleet in hopes of seeing him more frequently; everything. Where I once pushed Spock away for my own preservation I now let him in. I show him everything, and I don’t hold back. We just sit with our back against the wet tile, water splashing over us with the bond open wide. I give him all of me, and I think he’s surprised. He doesn’t run like I thought he would. He just holds me, mentally and physically, while I drain myself dry. And when I’m finished, I know I’m going to be okay. Despite everything, we’re going to be okay.


	20. I Can't Lose You Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Aurelan's funeral, and the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: I cried insanely while writing this chapter. It may be because I'm emotional right now, or because it's really sad. I guess you'll have to be the judge of that.

The next day I call my parents. Mom bawls, and Dad covers his face with his hands, but I don’t let anything show. I just stand straight with my head bowed, and I attempt to ask what we’re going to do about Peter. Dad’s on-planet now; he got promoted to Admiral a couple of days ago, and he’s willing to take custody of Peter. Pike grants the Enterprise a few days of leave so Spock and I can attend the funeral on Earth and take Peter to live on the farm. I’m glad that Peter’s going to be with family instead of getting shipped to some random children’s home across the galaxy. It’ll be nice to be able to check on him every once in a while, although I’m not looking forward to going home for the funeral.

            We’re on course for Earth right now, even though it seems like we were just there. There’s a somber mood on the ship, because by now everyone’s heard why we’re going back. A lot of the crew members are being weird around me; some offer quiet apologies in passing, and some won’t even look me in the eye. I’m kind of glad for the solitude; I don’t have the patience to deal with people right now, and talking requires too much effort. I focus on my work, which unfortunately is slow right now, and I spend most of my time in the gym. I’m there when Spock finds me after his shift.

            I’m at my usual place, hitting a punching bag until my arms hurt, and he watches me for a moment before stopping my next punch. I had barely even noticed he was there. He gives me a soft look, not filled with pity or worry like most people’s right now, just full of warmth. He relaxes the muscles in my hand and gently massages the sore knuckles, while I stand there looking at him as if nothing else exists. He’s my lifeline, the one thing I hold onto when I’m drowning in the sorrows of the universe. “We will arrive at Earth shortly,” he tells me, and I nod.

            “I know,” I sigh. “I’d rather be on a mission a million light-years away.”

            “You would not want to miss Sam’s funeral,” he disagrees gently, but I just shrug.

            “It doesn’t mean anything,” I respond. “It doesn’t change anything. It’s meant to offer me closure but it won’t bring my brother back. The only thing this funeral will do is force me to face a room filled with crying people that I can’t comfort because I can’t even comfort myself.”

            His grip on my hand tightens minutely. “Do I not offer you comfort?”

            “You know that you do. I’m just trying to find a way to get through the next couple of days with my head still on straight.”

            “I will put forth my best effort to ensure it does not detach from your body,” Spock says very seriously, and I laugh, my heart lightening slightly. That must have been what he was going for because he looks a little satisfied.

            “I don’t know why people say Vulcans don’t have a sense of humor,” I comment lightly.

            “Most people are not as intimate with a Vulcan as you are,” Spock points out. “And I am only half Vulcan.”

            I plant a quick, sweet kiss on his lips. “I wouldn’t have you any other way. C’mon, I need a shower.”

            “You need to see Dr. McCoy about your hand,” he argues wryly. “It will be bruised which will worry your mother.”

            “Fine, fine, but afterwards: shower.”

            “I am agreeable.”

            I grin. “I had a feeling you might be. Let’s go.”

            Bones doesn’t give me any trouble about my hand, and after a not-so-quick shower, we’re dressed in formal wear and ready to beam home. There’s no stalling, no avoiding this, and I shift back and forth anxiously on the transporter pad as we wait for someone to come transport us down. Spock places a hand on my arm comfortingly, and I give him a grateful glace as Scotty hurries into the room.

            “Sorry, lads. A little engineering experiment didn’t go quite the way I was expecting.”

            “It is forgiven, Mr. Scott. Energize.”

            “Aye, sir,” and we are suddenly standing in the familiar living room of my parents’ house.

            My mom comes flying out of nowhere, wrapping her arms securely around my neck and hugging me to her chest. I have to bend over in order to return the embrace, and I pat her back awkwardly given my position. “Oh, Jimmy,” she weeps into my shirt. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I can’t lose you too.” I can’t even promise her that she won’t. Part of my job is running off into uncharted territory and unknown dangers. Anyone could get killed. That's why it's called the final frontier. It’s different with Sam and Aurelan; they should have been safe on Deneva. This shouldn’t have happened and no one saw it coming. It makes the grief that much worse. I look over her shoulder at Spock helplessly, and he sends me strength through the bond. I honestly don’t know if I could get through this without it.

            Mom finally steps back and looks at me tearfully. “Where’s Peter?”

            “He is sleeping,” Spock says. “We did not think it would be prudent to bring him down until after he awakens.” She nods. “I am sorry for your loss, Winona. I grieve with thee.”

            She pats his cheek and smiles just a little. “Thank you, dear. I’m very grateful that you came back okay too.”

            “As am I.”

            They start to talk about Peter and I leave them to go look for my father. I find him in his study, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He’s sitting sprawled in the large antique armchair behind his desk, dressed in a black suit and tie. I knock lightly on the open door as I step into the room. “Hey, Dad.”

            “Sam?” He whispers hoarsely, looking wildly around the room, and my throat tightens. I go over to his side and take the bottle from him, replacing it with my hand instead.

            “No, Dad. It’s me, Jim,” I tell him sadly.

            His hand grips mine almost painfully. “Jim. I’m glad you’re here, son.”

            “Of course,” I say, because I’m still not really sure if I’m glad to be here. I don’t know if I can be the strong son that they need; that was always Sam. I don’t know if I can shoulder their grief as well as my own. _You do not have to bear this burden alone, Jim,_ Spock whispers in my mind.

            _I need you,_ I say back truthfully. He understands the weight behind my statement. I’ve never needed anyone before, and I know he’s touched that I trust him enough to rely on him. I can feel the bond strengthen between us, and it gives me the will power to deal with my father.

            “C’mon, big guy,” I say to my dad, and heave him out of the chair. “Let’s get you fixed up a little, yeah?”

            He mumbles something unintelligible and I lead him to the nearest bathroom so he can splash some water on his face and brush his teeth. After he looks presentable he places a heavy hand on my shoulder and draws me into his side. “I’m glad you’re here, son,” he repeats, and this time there’s a double meaning in his words. I wrap an arm around his back and together we walk out to Mom and Spock. When we enter the room, Spock gives me a slightly concerned glance, and I give him a reassuring look. Dad let’s go of me and wraps his arms around Mom instead.

            “I’ll go up and get Peter,” I say, and signal Scotty to beam me up again. I walk to the sickbay where we have been keeping Peter, and Bones stops me on my way in. I still haven’t talked to him since my outbursts on Deneva, and to be honest I’ve been purposefully avoiding him because of it.

            “Jim,” he says, placing a hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

            “No,” I say frankly. “I feel like the universe shit on me.”

            “I’m sorry,” he says, his hazel eyes open and honest. I pull the usually grumpy man into a bear hug, more for my sake than his.

            “Thanks, Bones,” I mutter into his shoulder, and he rubs my back soothingly. “I mean it. Thanks for always being here for me. You’re my best friend.”

            “Of course,” he says, a little roughly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

            “You better not be,” I say playfully, but there’s truth in my words. Loosing Bones would be like ripping off my right arm. I’m not sure I could live without it.

            “Don’t worry,” he says, and leads me over to where Peter is sitting up in the bio-bed, playing with a deck of cards I gave him a couple of days ago.

            “Hey there, Pete,” I say with a small smile. “How are you holding up, kiddo?”

            He looks up at me mournfully, and I feel my heart shatter for him. He reaches for me right as I hold out my arms, and he goes into them willingly, snuffling into my neck. Tears prick my eyes but I force them back, even though it’s hard. I hoist him up into my arms, and carry him down to the transporter room, Bones at my elbow. The three of us beam down, and Mom all but snatches the little boy out of my arms. She takes him into another room, cooing softly, with my Dad right at her heels. I look to the two men standing beside me, and gesture to the back yard where the precession is about to take place. “Shall we?” I say, echoing my words from just a few months ago, when everyone was here celebrating a glorious day. Now the scene is tainted, black clothing surrounding us and tears heard from every direction. Spock takes my hand and leads us out of the house to take our seats.

            Some random guy that I think might be a priest starts on about life and death, but the words hold no meaning for me. He didn’t know Sam or Aurelan therefore his speech is empty, a fruitless attempt at filling the void within all of us. I don’t recognize half of the people here. I think most of them are from Aurelan’s family, and some are acquaintances they meet during his scientific travels. The ceremony seems to take forever until the priest unexpectedly asks me to step up and say a few words. I jerk in surprise, and everyone’s eyes turn to look at me. I panic for a moment until Bones pats my arm, and I pull away from Spock to make my way in front of everyone.

            I stare out into the depressed faces, and take a deep breath to collect my thoughts and steel myself. “Sam was a great man,” I begin loudly, clearing my throat of emotion. “He was always the one in the family who could keep us together. Sam was brave, but caring, and he constantly seemed to make the right decisions. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t looking out for everyone else. He was the big brother who I looked up to, who I still look up to, and I can only hope to aspire to be the man he was. I was so happy for him when he found Aurelan, someone to balance his bravery with sweetness and reason. She was a wonderful woman, and I regret deeply that I wasn’t able to save her.” I drop my head for a moment and swallow, before looking back into the crowd. “I will miss them both dearly,” I say, my voice strained. “And I thank the stars that Peter is healthy and here with us today. I’m so sorry, Peter. You deserve more than this.” Peter runs up to where I’m standing and barrels into my legs, burying his face into my pants. Reaching down to scoop him up, I hear my mom stifle a cry behind her hand. I step away from the podium before my voice can waver, and make my way back to my seat with my head bowed, Peter still in my arms. I sit down so that he’s curled against my chest, and I lean against Spock for support, and he places a soft kiss to my temple.

            The funeral draws to a close as they scatter their ashes into the wind, and Peter hiccups in my arms. I kiss the top of his head and hug him tightly, knowing that he needs this more than anyone. The rest of the people file into the house for some food, but I have absolutely no appetite. Peter ends up crying himself back to sleep, and I lay him down in my parents’ bed to make sure he gets some rest. I really don’t want to stay here, so I go to Spock’s side and suggest we go home. He doesn’t have any objections, so I invite Bones to join us and we walk to our house about a mile away. There isn’t much to say, so nobody speaks, we just sit on the couch and watch an old Earth movie called _The Princess Bride_ , and it lightens the gloomy mood a bit. Then we retire to our rooms, offering Bones the spare one down the hall which he accepts. Spock and I curl up together and drift off, but it’s not as comfortable as last time and I feel weird without I-Chera tucked under my arm. I fall into an uneasy sleep.

            _A sixteen-year-old Sam dangles from the manmade quarry five miles from our childhood home, and he looks at me with large blue eyes. “Jimmy!” He screams, and his grip loosens slightly, rocks falling from between his fingers. “Jimmy, help me!” I’m ten feet away from him, but when I try to run it’s like the distance becomes longer, and I can’t close the gap between us._

_“Sam!” I yell. “Sam hold on!” But my eleven-year-old legs won’t move faster. He’s still screaming for me, and I push myself harder, trying to break out of the limbo that’s keeping me from my brother. Finally, finally, something changes, and I’m able to rush to the quarry’s side just as his hands slip. I throw myself to the ground, shoving my arms down to catch him. Our hands clasp briefly before he slips through my fingers, the quarry dust making our hands slick. “No!” I shriek, reaching futilely as I watch Sam fall away, eyes wide, tumbling down into to the dry earth below…_

            “SAM!” I bellow, snapping awake, scrambling up in bed and falling off the side. Spock lurches awake and looks down at me, disoriented. Bones bursts into the room with a stuffed badger in his hands, held up like he’s going to whack someone with it. He looks down at me on the floor confusedly, while I’m still trying to get my breathing to go back to normal. I look up at Bones and squint at the object in his hands.

            “What the fuck is that?” I ask him, and he shrugs.

            “It was on the nightstand.”

            “And exactly what were you going to do with a stuffed badger?”

            “I don’t know, I figured someone needed their head bashed in,” he says helplessly, waving the badger around in the air.

            “Why is there even a stuffed badger in my house?” I ask, crinkling my nose and furrowing my eyebrows.

            “I don’t know, I think Carol put it in there.” He waves aside my question. “Forget the damn badger, what the hell is going on in here?”

            “Just a dream, Bones,” I say tiredly. “Go back to bed.”

            He looks at me for another moment longer and goes out the door, grumbling all the way back to his room about how no one appreciates his helps. I rub my eyes and get up off the floor, plopping back onto the bed on my stomach beside Spock, who’s still peering at me worriedly.

            “Do you wish to discuss it?” He queries softly, trailing a hand down my back comfortingly.

            “I don’t think so,” I sigh. “You can see it if you really want.”

            He places a hand on my face in the meld position, and I feel his mind join mine, picking through the last couple of moments. He releases my face and lies down beside me again. “Are you certain you are alright?”

            I pull him close and rest my forehead on his shoulder. “I think so. I am now, anyway.”

            The rest of the night passes without incident and then next day we get ready to return to the ship.  We return to my parents’ house to say our farewells, and both of my parents hug me tightly. “I wish you didn’t have to go so soon,” my mom says, looking unhappy. My dad nods in agreement.

            “I know, but duty calls,” I say. “I’ll keep in touch, don’t worry.”

            “Just keep yourself out of trouble,” my mom says sternly.

            “Do not worry, Winona. I will look after him,” Spock says seriously, which makes me smile.

            “Me too, ma’am; your boy’s in good hands,” Bones cuts in, and she nods her head approvingly.

            Peter comes dashing down the stairs and runs over to me, hugging me close. I crouch down so I can squeeze him back, and I ruffle his hair. “I wish I could go with you,” he sniffles, and my heart aches.

            “I know, kiddo, but I’ll call often, alright? It’s not safe for you on a starship.”

            “It’s not safe for you either!” He cries. “Please stay, Uncle Jim, don’t go!”

            He’s making this so hard for me. The big eyes staring up at me remind me of another six year old boy from a decade ago, but I clamp down on the reminder before it can make my heart hurt even more. “I have to,” I say softly. “But don’t worry: I’ll take care of myself. I’ll see you real soon, Pete.” I kiss his little forehead and stand up, patting his head and stepping back. I hear Spock murmur ‘energize’ into a communicator, and then we’re standing on the transporter pad.

            “He’s a good kid,” I say wistfully. Spock nods his agreement.

            “Your parents will take good care of him, Jim,” Bones says assuredly, and I know he’s right.

 

Even though technically we have today logged as on-leave, I go back to my quarters to file some reports. Before the disaster on Deneva, we encountered a ship disguised as a meteor, with what remained of a civilization living at its center. The people of Yonada were actually discovered to be from Fabrini, a planet whose sun went nova. They were the last of their people, and we recorded a lot of data from their ship that could help advance Starfleet in numerous ways. As Chief Science Officer, it’s my duty to sort through the data and send it to the appropriate sections of the ship. It’s come to my attention that a lot of the work needs to be translated, and it’s a daunting task. I’m glad for the distraction, however, and it makes it easy for me to lose myself in my work. I keep noticing that most of the information is related to medical practices, so Bones will be dying to get his hands on this stuff. It’ll take me a while though before any of it is available to read. It just so happens that one of the courses I took at the Academy was focused on Fabrini culture and language, because I needed elective credits and I thought the class sounded cool. I don’t have any trouble translating the data; it just takes a while to convert to Standard.

            A couple of days later and I’m still working on the task, but my stomach growls and I want some food. Spock’s meditating when I find a stopping point, so I decide to go down to sickbay to see if Bones is hungry. When I get there though, I can hear him and Carol having a really heated discussion. I can’t make out what their saying, and I don’t want to eavesdrop, so I stand out in the corridor until Carol comes rushing out. She looks at me tearfully for a moment before darting to her quarters. Bewildered, I walk into Bones’ office to find him rubbing his forehead wearily. He looks up as I approach. “Oh good, you’re here,” he says flatly, and I blink in surprise.

            “Do you want me to come back later?” I ask carefully, not wanting to set him off.

            He shakes his head. “Sit down, Jim. We need to talk.”

            “Is this about Carol?” I sit on the other side of the desk from him.

            He shakes his head. “Jim, I don’t really know how to tell you this.”

            Dread pools in my stomach. “Tell me what, Bones?” I ask slowly, almost certain that I really don’t want to hear what he’s about to say. He drops the hand from his face and leans forward, looking directly into my face. I notice he looks more tired than usual. There are deep bags under his eyes and he looks aged. I wonder if he’s been sleeping alright, and then I curse myself for not knowing the answer. I’ve been a bad friend lately, with everything that’s been going on. “Are you okay?”

            “No, Jim, I’m not. I just found out that one of the crewmembers has been diagnosed with Xenopolycythemia and there’s no cure, Jim. I can’t save them.”

            “Is it serious?” I ask, dismayed.

            “Fatal,” he sighs. “He’s only got a year to live, Jim.”

            “He?” I ask, panic starting to rise in me. “Who is he?

            “Jim…”

            “ _Who is it, Bones?!_ ” I ask frantically, my voice tinged with hysteria.

            He drops his face into his hand. “It’s me, Jim. It’s me.”

            Dead silence.

            I just stare. Nothing makes sense because no, this can’t be happening, not after everything else. Not Bones. “Not you,” I whisper. “Not you, Bones, please. Please tell me this is some sort of sick joke. Please, Bones, tell me it is or I swear to God…”

            “It’s not, Jim. It’s not a joke. I’m dead serious, kid. I’m sorry.” He gets up and walks around the table to put a hand on my shoulder, but I stand up and back away from him.

            “I’m dreaming, oh God I’m dreaming. I have to be. Wake up, wake up Jim.” I put a hand to my stomach because I feel like I’m going to be sick, and I’m suddenly grateful I haven’t eaten anything.

            “Jim!” Bones grabs my arms forcefully. “You’re not dreaming, Jim. This is for real.”

            I grip his arms just as tightly. “No, it’s not,” I say firmly.

            “It is. Why are you so certain that it isn’t?”

            “Because I can’t lose you too!” I shout, shaking him.

            He crushes me to his shoulder with a hand on the back of my head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He chants it like a mantra. I’m shaking uncontrollably and I’m hyperventilating but I’m not crying. I’m too shocked and numb to cry. I just wrap my arms around his shoulders and use his body to keep myself upright. His hands are patting between my shoulder blades and we’re kind of rocking back and forth, but it doesn’t help to calm me. I vaguely register Spock hastening into the room but no one says anything, Bones just hugs me tightly and I try to get my brain to start working again.

“You said weren’t going to go anywhere,” I eventually mumble into his shirt, and I feel his breath catch.

            “I don’t want to,” he says thickly. “Believe me; I don’t want to leave you.”

            That’s when I start to cry.

 

            I throw myself into translating that data. I won’t give up hope that there’s something, anything, in those ancient medical records that can help Bones. If I don’t keep that lodged in my head, I will go crazy. I can feel it, sometimes, the hysteria creeping into my head while I’m working, sending me into a frenzy of work, work, work. Spock doesn’t know what to do; I feel him hovering constantly, filled with worry and concern, but I can’t focus on him right now. I have to cure Bones. I have to; there’s no other option. I can’t give up, because if I do I might as well just cut off my arm. Because I can’t live without him. It will without a doubt kill me.

            I barely sleep, because the nightmares haunt me every night. Spock is waking me up multiple times every hour because I start freaking out. I don’t take the sleeping pills that Bones prescribes me, because they make me sluggish the next day, and I need to be able to focus. Caffeine keeps me going until I absolutely have to lie down, and even then it’s only for an hour or two at a time. I barely eat, because I get nauseous every time I do and it makes it hard to think. On the rare occasions that I take a break, I go to the sickbay and practically glue myself to Bones’ side. I can feel Spock freaking out in the back of my head because he doesn’t know how to approach me, but I can’t seem to make myself care. I’m numb, and empty, and the only thing that holds any meaning for me right now is finding a way for my best friend to survive.

            Meanwhile, he slowly deteriorates. The longer I take to find a cure the worse he gets. He’s moving slower, I’ve noticed, and already it’s harder for him to remember simple things. He’s eating barely more than I am, but he’s getting considerable more amounts of sleep because he tires easily. I feel like I’m the one…dying. It’s killing me to watch him like this. I may joke about him being an old man but he’s actually not that old. He still has years of life left before him. He deserves more than this, and I’m determined to give it to him. I’ve researched and memorized all of his symptoms so I can look out for it in the Fabrinian data, but so far I’ve seen nothing. I’m frustrated, and exhausted, and heartbroken, and I don’t know what to do.

            I get up from the desk I’ve been work on and pace around. I was so close! I found the same exact symptoms in the writings, but there’s a piece missing, a hole in the information. I just know it has the cure but I can’t find the damn ingredients. Shouting hopelessly, I sweep all of the contents off my desk with my arm, and throw my chair against the bulkhead. It rebounds off, unharmed, and I sink to the ground in disappointment, a physical pain in my chest. I lie on my stomach with my face pressed into the carpet, and I don’t move for a really long time. I just stay there in the same position with my mind devoid of all thought. I don’t even fall asleep. I just lie there until Spock gets done with his shift. Needless to say, he finds me on the floor amongst the scattered PADDs and other miscellaneous things, and he freaks.

            “Jim?” he exclaims, kneeling next to me and flipping me over. I look up at him despairingly. “Are you injured? Do you need medical attention?”

            I sit up next to him and sigh. “I’m not injured or sick, Spock. I’m okay, don’t worry.” I get up and start to pick up my dislodged possessions.

            “Despite your intended reassurance, I find I cannot simply cease being concerned about your well-being.” Spock proclaims, stooping to help me clean the mess I created. “I am worried, Jim.”

            I stop what I’m doing and look at him. “I know. I’m sorry.” I murmur. “I just have to do this, okay? Can’t you understand?”

            “I admit that I do not, due to never having a close friend like you do in McCoy. However, I must point out that you are capable of helping him while simultaneously taking care of yourself as well.”

            “It’s just not at the top of my list of things to do right now.”

            “It is at the ‘top’ of mine,” he insists. “I am dismayed by Dr. McCoy’s condition as well. I consider him a friend. It pains me to know of his shortened time. I do not want you to take an illness as well.” He meets my gaze.

            I walk over and cradle his face in my hands. “I’m fine, Spock, really I am.”

            He signs but doesn’t pursue the topic further, and for that I am grateful. We finish picking up my supplies, and I return to my research.

            About a week later, I’m sifting through the last of the data, and my heart’s in my feet. There’s nothing—nothing—that pertains to Xenopolycythemia. I’m about to give up. I’ve actually considered resigning from Starfleet so I can take Bones back to Georgia for his last precious months. He expressed the wish to visit one last time a few days ago, and the thought of him having a last time to visit shattered the already broken pieces of my heart. I don’t know how many times I will be able to pick them back up and force them together again. I’m at my wit’s end, and I almost don’t even see the point of opening the last file on my PADD. I do anyways, for completion’s sake, and I almost drop the PADD as I translate and read its contents. No fucking way.

            I’m out of my chair and racing to the lab before I even process my movements, the PADD still clutched in my hand. I start throwing together the ingredients listed, measuring out each one meticulously, until I have four ounces worth of a murky red substance. I put it into a container and practically fall out of my chair in my haste to get to Bones. “Bones!” I yell as I run into sickbay. He’s sitting in his office filing a report, and he looks up startled when I burst in. “I think I found it,” I pant, and he sits up a little straighter in his seat.

            “Are you sure, Jim?” He asks, trying not to look to hopeful.

            “No,” I admit. “But I ran the tests and read the data almost ten different times. I think this is it,” I say excitedly.

            “Well, what do I have to lose?” He shrugs his shoulders and comes around the desk to inspect the liquid. He looks up and meets my eyes. “I trust you, Jim,” he says quietly, and takes a hypo out of his med-pack. We call a nurse over and sync him up to the scanners, and I watch nervously as Christine sucks up the liquid into the hypo. She hesitates for a moment before applying it. “What are you waiting for, Chris?” Bones demands impatiently. “Shoot me with the damn thing! I don’t have forever!”

            She administers the hypo, and the tension in the room noticeably increases as she turns back to the instruments. The nurse waits a couple of seconds before telling the news. When she does, it’s with a large smile on her face and tears in her eyes. “Your hemoglobin count it returning to normal doctor,” she says excitedly, and I grip Bones’ hand in triumph. “White corpuscle count is stabilizing as well, sir.”

            “It’s working,” Bones whispers. “Dammit man, you actually saved me!” He yells happily, pulling me in for an embrace. I laugh, and wipe the tears from my eyes. “I’m going to be okay, Jim.” Bones tells me. “I’m going to be okay.”

            “Damn right, you better be okay,” I say playfully, but soon I turn serious. “Don’t ever do that to me again, Bones.”

            He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t exactly try to.”

            “I don’t care, I’m still blaming you.” I poke his chest, and he rubs the spot in mock pain.

            He narrows his eyes at me suddenly. “When’s the last time you ate? Or slept, for that matter?” I dance out of his reach before he can swat at me.

            “Good to know you’re back to normal, Bones,” I yell over my shoulder as I walk away. “I have to go tell Spock and Carol!”

            I run up to the bridge, and Spock turns in his chair when I jump out of the turbo-lift. I walk swiftly to his side. “Spock, I found the cure. Bones is going to make a full recovery,” I say, quietly and quickly. I feel his relief, happiness, and pride seep through the bond.

            “That is remarkable news, Jim,” he responds, and kisses me the Vulcan way. “I am very relieved.”

            “Me too, I’m giddy with it,” I say, a big grin plastered upon my face. I don’t even remember the last time I actually smiled. I run back to the turbo-lift. “I have to tell Carol!” I shout before the doors close. I sprint down the corridors to her quarters, and opt for banging on the door instead of buzzing in my arrival. The door opens quickly, and she stands in front of me, looking alarmed.

            “Jim, what the hell?” She yells, and I pick her up and spin her around. She yelps in surprise, and I when I set her back down I squish her to my chest.

            “I saved Bones!” I holler, and she pulls back from me immediately.

            “You what?!”

            “I saved Bones,” I repeat, more calmly this time, but still with a huge smile. “Carol, he’s going to live.”

            “Oh my God,” she says, eyes filling with tears and she covers her mouth with her hand.

            “I know, c’mon.” I drag her to the sickbay to see him. When we get there Bones is standing instead of lying on the bio-bed, and already he has more color in his face. She launches herself at him, crying profusely, and he hugs her tightly, murmuring in her ear. I’m pretty sure I hear the words ‘marry me’, and I leave to allow them their private moment.

            Everything is right in the world again.


	21. Asphyxiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Jim become stranded on Delta Vega, and once they get back to the ship they receive orders from Starfleet that will change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters to go! Im sad about it actually; I dont know what I'll do with my free time. Anyways, this is a longer chapter, so I hope you enjoy!  
> xoxoxo

            Our next routine mission is going to be a dull one, I can already tell. We’re supposed to swing by Delta Vega, a class M planet in the Vulcan system, known for its harsh icy winds and subzero temperatures. Our mission: stop by the small outpost and make sure they don’t need any supplies, if there’s anyone even still stationed there. Starfleet’s not sure, which is why they’re sending us to check it out. Spock and I are standing on the transporter pad, ready for beam down. Usually, we’d send a routine landing party down, with less experienced officers, but since we really aren’t expecting anything to happen, Spock and I want to check it out. Let’s face it; we’re bored. Scotty comes running into the room, grease smeared all over his face and his hair sticking up in all directions. I think his eyebrows are a little singed, too. I wonder what he’s doing in Engineering and why he didn’t invite me to play along. “Sorry, Captain, I know I’m late.”

            “It is forgiven, Mr. Scott. Energize.”

            There’s a huge spark at the station, and with a yell Scotty jumps from the controls. He gives us a surprised look, and cradles his burned hands to his chest. After the controls stop smoking, he goes over to fiddle with some knobs and lose wires. “A circuit blew, sir. It’ll take me a while to get her running again.”

            I groan inwardly, but then an idea pops into my head. “Why don’t we just take a shuttle craft down there?”

            “Yes, Commander, I think that would be most efficient.” Spock must be restless too, because he speed-walks out of the room and to the shuttle bay, me struggling to keep up. We climb into the Galileo and buckle in, and an ensign signals that we’re clear for takeoff. Spock raises the shuttle off the deck and out of the Enterprise, while I monitor the rest of the instruments. He sets a course for the outpost, and the shuttle all but flies itself there. Everything is going great until we hit Delta Vega’s atmosphere.

            “Spock there’s a huge blizzard brewing so we might want to be careful—” The craft is bombarded with hail and wind, knocking us off course. We’re sent into a downward spiral towards the planet’s surface. I try to stabilize the craft, but the wind hitting us from all directions makes it impossible. Spock is desperately trying to regain control, but it’s no use. We can’t see out of the main viewer due to all of the snow, and communications are down. All we can do is brace ourselves for impact. The shuttle hits the ground hard on its side, sending us both flying into the bulkhead. My head comes in contact with the wall and I see stars for a moment before coming back to my senses. Spock’s struggling to his feet, and I do so as well, making my way over to his side. “You okay?” I ask.

            “I am unharmed, are you?”

            “Relatively; I might have a concussion.” He then proceeds to start examining and prodding my head, and when his finger hits a tender spot I yelp. “Ow, Spock, knock it off, I’m fine. We have bigger things to worry about right now.” He steps back reluctantly, but nods. That’s when I see the smoke curling out from the main panel on the floor. “Uh, isn’t that where the fuel is kept?” Spock’s eyes widen, confirming my fears. “We need to get out of here, now!”

            The shuttle door is bent, keeping it from opening properly, so Spock has to rip it off track and throw it into the blizzard. We quickly grab two standard coats but don’t have time to grab other supplies, and rush out into the white, trying to put as much distance between us and the craft as we can. Sure enough, we’re not even ten feet away when it blows, the tremor sending us both to the ground. We stagger to our feet and watch the flames quickly extinguish in the storm. “Great. We’re stranded.”

            “I s-suggest we attempt t-to reach t-the outpost,” Spock stutters from beside me, and I start to get really worried about our situation. The tips of his ears and nose are bright green, despite him wearing the coat and drawing the hood around his face. He’s shivering violently, and I remember that Vulcan’s survive in way higher temperatures than even a human. This place must be a living hell for him.

            “Right, let’s go before you get hypothermia,” I wrap an arm around him in hopes of keeping him warmer, but I know that if we don’t find shelter soon he won’t last very long. We start our trek towards the direction of the outpost, but it’s impossible to see anything in front of us. After a few minutes, the storm thankfully dissipates, and we can make out the large stretches of ice laid out for us to travel across. I have no idea if we’re going the right way, but Spock doesn’t protest our direction, so hopefully we are. We walk for what seems like forever, and I’m starting to get cold. I can’t imagine how Spock’s dealing with it. There’s still no outpost in sight, and my hopes are starting to fall.

            There’s a huge rumble from behind us, and I whip around to see a large shape bounding towards us. I don’t wait to make out its features. I pull Spock into a run. The creature roars behind us and I speed up my pace, Spock keeping up easily due to his Vulcan physique. I spot a cave about a hundred yards in front of us, and I point it out to Spock. He nods, and we go impossibly faster, my legs and lungs burning from the effort. We make it into the shelter of the small cave, and the creature futilely shoves it huge maw into the entryway, trying to reach us, but its size is too big and its reach too short. It loses interest and stalks off, growling ferociously, and we collapse on the cold floor, panting heavily. Once we both get our breath back, I turn to face him. “I think we’re lost,” I say.

            “I concur. I believe it would be safer to remain here until the Enterprise is able to lock on to our life signs.”

            “Are you okay?”

            “My body temperature is far below what is considered comfortable. I fear that unless we are discovered soon, it will have detrimental effects on my health.”

            “Well then come here,” I grip his wrist and all but drag him towards me while unzipping my coat so I can tuck it around both of us. He starts to protest but I ignore him, just wrap his arms around my waist and cover us both with the material.

            “Jim, it is illogical and dangerous for you to sacrifice your coat in order to give it to me seeing as I already possess one.”

            “Yeah, and seeing as the one you possess isn’t doing much good, I’m sharing mine. Besides, the closer our bodies are, the more heat we can share.”

            He stops arguing after that, so I take my coat off and unzip his as well, snuggling into his arms and wrapping his coat around us, and then draping my coat on top. The cave helps block most of the wind, and the coats shelter us even further, but Spock’s skin is still freezing. I try to position us so that he’s lying on me instead of the cold floor, but I can’t really tell if it’s working. He buries his cold nose into my neck and I try not to gasp from the chill. We lie like that for a long time, until we’re both starting to shiver and Spock’s looking scarily pale. His eyes are drifting shut and I nuzzle his cheek to get his attention. He looks at me tiredly after a moment. “Hey,” I say lightly, trying to keep the panic from my voice. “You have to stay awake, okay? The rescue team will be here any minute, I’m sure.”

            He nods, but his eyes start to shut again almost against his will. “Spock!” I say loudly, and he blinks, focusing back on me. “We can sleep as long as you want when we get back to the ship, but you have to stay conscious right now.” I start to ramble about random shit just to keep him preoccupied, but I can tell it’s not really working. I can tell he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, and my eyelids feel heavy as well. I’m just about to say ‘screw it’ when I see the familiar lights shine around us, and then we’re lying on the transporter pad on the Enterprise.

            Bones is standing by with a medical team, and we’re both taken to our quarters. The temperature in there is about ten degrees hotter than usual thankfully, and we’re both wrapped in about five thick blankets with I-Chera tucked in between. We’re given a lot of hypos, but Bones says we’ll both make a full recovery as long as we stay warm for the next 24 hours. “That means a lot of body heat,” Bones says awkwardly. “So…take that how you will, and I don’t want to hear about it.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m leaving before I can dwell on that further. If you need anything, call.” As soon as he leaves, I curl into Spock’s side, grateful that he’s no longer shivering, and that his nose and ears have gone back to their normal shade.

            “Tired?” I ask, and he nods minutely. I tuck myself closer to his side, and I feel an arm snake around my waist, holding me tight against him. I-Chera lies down on both of us with a growl-purr, making me chuckle but feel content. We both drift off for a while, and soon I’m sweating from all of the heat surrounding me. It makes me uncomfortable, so I carefully get out of bed so as to not wake Spock, and start the shower. The room is so hot that the mirror is fogged up, so I wipe off the condensation and jump when I see Spock standing behind me in the reflection. I turn and smile up at him, and he looks down at me warmly. “You startled me,” I laugh, and he presses his face into my neck.

            “I apologize,” he breathes against my throat, and despite the heat I shiver. His hands come up to cradle my face, tilting it upward so he can kiss my neck better. His lips skim over my collarbone, making my stomach flip deliciously. He sucks a bruise into the skin on my shoulder and I grip the edge of the counter behind me to support our weight. I struggle to steady my breathing and fail, my chest rising and falling quickly as his hands drop to skim my sides. Spock must get tired of bending over my shorter frame because suddenly his hands tighten on my waist, and he’s picking me up and setting me on the counter, but now I’m the one who has to lean down, so I take the opportunity to run my hands through his hair and wrap my legs around his waist, bringing us close enough that our jaws brush. I feel him grin against my cheek, and I turn my head so our mouths align. His lips press against mine with bruising force, both of us struggling for dominance over the other. Somehow my shirt comes off without our mouths disconnecting, and I have a high suspicion that he ripped it even though I didn’t hear the fabric tear over the sound of the shower. The thought makes me laugh, and our tongues touch in our attempts to get as close to one another as possible. Every part of me burns from the contact between us, and I use my legs to pull him even closer, our hips fitting together snugly. I protest when he breaks from my grasp, but my objections are quieted when I realize it’s just so we can remove the rest of our clothing. I hop off the counter and strip, and then pull him into the shower with me. We’re so close that even without my glasses on I can see the faint drops of moisture clinging to his eyelashes. Our chests slip against each other from the water, but I have no complaints. I take control, pushing him back until he’s pressed against the wall, and kiss him passionately as the water rains down over our heads.

            After our shower, we dry ourselves off and return to the bed, cuddling and dozing in and out of sleep. When we wake up next, I get up to pee and make us both some hot soup using the replicator. Spock orders the temperature down a few degrees, but even then I’m still sweating crazily, even sitting in only my boxers. Spock stares at me as we eat, and his scrutiny kind of confuses me. “Like what you see?” I finally ask after minutes of sitting under his unwavering gaze.

            “You do not look well,” he comments.

            “Uh, thanks?”

            “My meaning was that you appear to be ill. I believe you should contact Dr. McCoy.”

            I shrug. “I feel fine, other than this insane sweating.”

            “That may be a symptom. Call the doctor.”

            “I’m fine.”

            “Jim,” he persists, looking at me intensely.

            “Okay, okay. You’re worse than Mother Hen.” I roll my eyes.

            His eyebrows pull together. “I do not understand.”

            “I meant Bones.”

            “The doctor is not female nor a species of fowl.” He raises his eyebrow.

            “It’s a colloquialism. It means he’s overprotective.”

            “Ah. In that case, I am certainly concerned for your well-being, especially considering you seem to have no interest in self-preservation.”

            “That is not true. I just don’t think this is worth stressing over.”

            “Call the doctor, James.”

            I grin mischievously and lean over to kiss him. “I love it when you call me that.” Rolling off the bed, I make my way over to the com device on the wall. I bend down to pick up I-Chera on my way and snuggle her in my arms. “Kirk to sickbay.”

            “What do you need, Jim?” Bones answers immediately.

            “Can you come here for a second? Spock thinks I might’ve picked up a cold.”

            “Oh, so now he thinks he’s a doctor, does he? Well, you can tell the hobgoblin that you were fine when I scanned you after we beamed you aboard.”

            I glance at Spock, but he just looks at me pointedly. “He’s insisting.”

            A sigh. “I’ll be there in a minute,” Bones replies.

            I don’t bother putting on clothes because it’s just Bones, so when he walks in he makes a face. “Really. You couldn’t make yourself decent?”

            “I’m always decent. Besides, I’m wearing underwear at least. I could be wearing nothing.”

            “You’re unbelievable.” He turns to Spock. “How do you deal with him?”

            “I find that simply ignoring him is usually the best method for keeping my sanity.” Spock responds, giving me an amused look.

            “Hey! I’m right here!” I exclaim. “I’m wounded.”

            “You’re fine,” Bones says, coming over to scan me again with his tricorder. “Whoa, Jim, you’re vitals are way off. You’re running a temperature of 103 degrees! No wonder you’re sweating. I need you to come down to sickbay so we can do more tests.”

            Spock gives me another pointed look, so I get off the bed to follow Bones. I sway on my feet dangerously, and Spock is by my side in an instant, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me upright. The dizziness hits me out of nowhere, and I find myself leaning on him heavily. “I—I don’t feel right,” I say hazily, and promptly pass out in his grasp.

           

            I’m burning alive. There’s heat everywhere, scorching my veins and searing my skin. Darkness envelops me, and I try to open my eyes but I can’t, I can’t see and everything is hot and I can’t focus. I cry out, but the fire blisters my throat and I feel cool tears fall down my face, a momentary relief until they begin to boil on my cheeks. I thrash, trying to find some way of escape but something’s restraining my movements. I struggle harder, but I feel a sharp pain in my neck and know no more.

 

            I’m assaulted by bright light that hurts my eyes, and I raise a hand to shield them, at least I think I do. I dimly register that I’m in a bed but the pain surrounding me keeps me from dwelling on it. After attempting to open my eyes, I vaguely see familiar faces, catch a few soothing words, before I succumb to the darkness that takes the pain away.

 

            When I’m finally coherent, I wake up fully aware that I’m in the sickbay. I pry my eyes open cautiously, but I’m no longer surrounded by the blinding light. The private recovery room is faintly lighted, and I’m able to make out the sleeping form in the chair beside me. I shift on the bed and groan because my whole body aches like I’ve run five marathons. Spock sits up immediately, and his eyes find my face. He reaches for the glass of water on the table and offers it to me. I take a long drink, and the coolness of the liquid feels good on my throat. “Hey,” I croak out, and his fingers brush my face briefly before rising to get the doctor.

            Bones rushes in quickly, relief and concern warring for the expression on his face. He doesn’t say anything as he comes over to check me over, and I can see the relief take over as nothing reports out of the ordinary. “Damn, kid,” he says, passing a hand over his face. “That was fucking scary.”

            I look at him questioningly because talking takes too much effort.

            “You acquired Vegan Chromiomeningitis while on that damn icy wasteland. Do you know how rare that disease is, or how unlucky you have to be to get it? It has to be treated within the first 24 hours of having it or it’s fatal, no matter what. We were cutting it really close. You’re lucky you have the captain looking out for you, because if we’d listened to you, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

            I look at Spock gratefully, and he gives me a small smile, but he looks exhausted, mentally and physically. “I’m sorry.”

            “You’re always sorry, but you never to anything to prevent things like this from happening,” Bones scowls.

            “This wasn’t my fault,” I point out, but he shakes his head.

            “The point is, Jim, that your disregard for your own health is frightening.”

            “Why do you two seem to think I’m suicidal?” I demand, looking back and forth between them. “Because I’m not, I assure you. I love my life. I love both of you, okay? I’m not purposefully trying to go anywhere.”

            “Then why don’t you care about what happens to you?” Bones asks, giving me a hard look.

            “Okay, sometimes I admit I’m reckless. But most of the time I’m pretty damn aware of what’s going on, and I do what I think is best.”

            “So throwing yourself in front of a spear is what you think is best? Or how about punching a sandbag until your hand breaks? Please, enlighten me on how that’s ‘what’s best’ for you, because I think it’s just a damn martyr complex.” He crosses his arms and makes a point of waiting for me to explain.

            “The only time I throw myself in front of any projectile is when my gut tells me to,” I say honestly. “And 99/100 times I’m right, and end up preventing a death. If I can save someone’s life and walk away with a minor injury, then that’s what I’m going to do. And as for the punching bag, I know you can fix that, so it’s not a big deal.”

            “I shouldn’t have to fix it!” Bones yells. “You should be considerate enough to not hurt yourself in the first place!”

            “You’re a doctor, it’s your job to fix things, not lecture me about what I should or shouldn’t be doing with my life!”

            He points a finger in my face. “You’re staying here the rest of the week, no arguments,” he says, his voice dangerously low.

            No arguments my ass. “Bones, you can’t—”

            “FINE!” He explodes. “Don’t listen to me, and get yourself killed. See if I care.”

            I recoil from his words, feeling their sting like a slap.

            “Doctor,” Spock says quietly. “That is enough.”

            Bones glares at us both, then turns on his heel and stalks out of the room.

            I watch him go, then pinch the bridge of my nose. “Please tell me you’re not mad at me too.”

            I feel him grab my hand and pull it away from my face, folding his fingers between mine. “I am not.”

            I search his face, but he doesn’t look angry. “Maybe you should be.”

            “I disagree with what the doctor said, because I know you have good intentions the majority of the time, though I do know that occasionally you are reckless, as you say.” I stay silent for a moment, and he squeezes my hand. “Jim, I do not believe McCoy meant his last words.”

            “I know.”

            “You concern him.”

            “I don’t mean to,” I say truthfully. “Can’t we go back to our quarters?”

            “I do not believe--”

            “Please, Spock?”

            He gives a very un-Vulcan-like sigh, but helps me out of the bed and to our quarters. He has to practically half carry me there, and when we go inside I collapse on the bed with a groan. “I do not believe these side-effects will last longer than a day,” he tells me, and I’m grateful. I-Chera jumps on the bed and curls up near my head.

            “Why did I feel like I was on fire?” I ask as I reach out to pet her fur.

            “It was the drug making its way through your bloodstream, burning the disease from your body. It also seemed to cause hallucinations while you were semi-conscious, because you yelled strange things.”

            “I bet that was entertaining,” I grin.

            “No,” he says solemnly. “It was worrisome.”

            “Hey,” I say softly, and hold out a hand. “Come here.” He walks to my side and I pull him down next to me. He leans forward until his forehead is directly above my heart. I comb through his hair with my fingers. “I’m okay,” I whisper.

            “You almost were not,” he mutters into my shirt.

            “But I am,” I persist. “I’m okay,” I repeat.

 

            I’m on leave the rest of the week, and even though the achiness went away when Spock predicted, I remained exhausted the rest of the week and slept most of the time. I don’t talk to Bones at all. By the time the start of the new week rolls around, however, I’m good as new. Spock puts me on light duty at first, but now, a couple of days later, I’m working full time on the bridge. I’m going over a few star charts at my station when my PADD beeps.

            **Priority One: Urgent Message from Starfleet** , it reads. I look up at Spock to confirm that he got it too. He nods, and I turn back around to open it. I read through the contents and my blood runs cold. I swear my heart stutters in my chest. I blink a few times, subtly trying to clear my head without alerting the rest of the crew to the fact that I’m freaking out inside. I feel Spock come up behind me, mentally embracing me for support but I can’t look at him, because if I do I’ll lose it.

            **Due to an investigation into a suspicious matter, the Federation has recently become aware that the criminal known as General Kodos, responsible for the massacre on Tarsus IV a decade ago, has been found alive. Although Kodos was previously presumed to be dead, his remains were never found during the liberation of the Tarsus survivors. A Lt. Kevin Reilly recognized Kodos on Starbase 14, where he had disguised himself as Anton Karidian, the leader of a Shakespearian acting troupe. Kodos has been apprehended, and Starfleet requires the Enterprise to act as transport between Starbase 14 and the penal colony on Tantalus V. Your orders are to change course immediately to Starbase 14. Take caution, as the prisoner is categorized as hostile and extremely dangerous.**

            Any other ship. They couldn’t have assigned any other ship. It had to be us. “Jim,” Spock says quietly, but I don’t move. I just stare at the PADD screen, my mind threatening to shut down after this recent onslaught of information. Kodos is not dead. Kodos is alive. “Jim,” Spock says again, this time more firmly. I finally look up into his face, horror covering every inch of my own. “Come with me,” he says, and gently pulls me to my feet and off of the bridge before I can freak out. Once we’re in the confines of the lift, I lose my head.

            “JESUS CHRIST,” I yell, and Spock starts beside me. “He’s not dead. Jesus Christ, Kodos isn’t dead. He’s alive. We’re going to transport him...” I ramble on for a good minute before I realize the lift is paused and the movement I feel is me because I’m shaking.

            “You are safe, Jim,” Spock says, finally interrupting me, and holding me firmly by the arms. “He cannot harm you.”

            I flash back to Gary, to Benji, and my trembling intensifies. I’m having a full on panic attack. Not because I’m scared, Kodos doesn’t scare me, but because it makes me sick that I’ll have to face the man responsible for the horrors of my past. He’ll be right in front of me, and I won’t be able to hide from what I’m feeling, from what he makes me feel. Everything will be out in the open. I’m not scared, no; I’m livid. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.

            I close my eyes and take deep breaths, focusing on calming down. I feel Spock’s grip on me loosen, and I stop shaking. I look at him and nod tersely, and he restarts the lift, taking us to our quarters.

            “You do not have to face him,” Spock says once we’re in the privacy of our room.

            “Yes, I do,” I disagree. “I can’t keep running from him forever.”

           

            We arrive at the Starbase within hours, not near enough time for me to ready myself. It’s too soon; it’s happening too fast and I can’t stop it. I actually considered going to Engineering and screwing with the warp core just to delay our arrival. Spock and I walk to the transporter room to oversee his arrival, and we’re both tense, neither of us speaking. We watch as the familiar lights blaze before us and suddenly I’m looking into the eyes of a murderer. “James Tiberius Kirk,” he breathes, and Spock stiffens beside me.

            “You will not address him,” Spock tells Kodos coldly. It still takes me by surprise to see Spock talk to people so harshly, after being so used to his warmth around me. Though, if anyone deserves Spock’s cruelty, it’s Kodos. The security team we brought with us surrounds Kodos immediately, and we escort him to the brig. Spock recites all of the rules and regulations that pertain to his imprisonment, but I’m not listening. I’m looking at Kodos, and he’s staring right back.

            Once Spock stops talking, I take a step forward until I'm practically pressed up against the forcefield holding Kodos prisoner. "How dare you," I start, my voice shaking with rage. "How dare you stand there and act like you've done nothing wrong."

            "Jim, I do not think-" Spock injects, but I hold out a hand to stop him.

            _I need this_ , I tell him through the bond. Aloud, I say, "Well? Do you have nothing to say for yourself?"

            Kodos looks at me and smiles, infuriating me further. He spreads his hands out in front of him. "I don't think I did anything wrong."

            I turn around, bile rising in my throat, and stalk out of the room.

            As we leave I can feel his eyes bore into my back as I walk away. I have the desire to shower, as if I can wash away how dirty his gaze makes me feel. Spock takes my hand on the walk to the bridge, and I’m thankful for it. It’s nice to have some stability to hold on to while the world around me is tilting.

            As we stand in the turbo-lift, Spock turns to me. “I was not aware that you knew Kodos personally.”

            “I don’t,” I tell him. “But I am one of the nine survivors that ever saw Kodos’ face. I’m sure he did his research on me.”

            We walk out onto the bridge and I take up my station, trying not to think about who is lurking in our ship. The ship’s scanner starts beeping at me but before I can check it the ship pitches sideways, throwing me from my chair and onto the floor. I get up as quickly as I can, and read the report the computer feeds to me. “Sir, we’ve been attacked by a Romulan ship. Major hull damage.”

            “Shields up, Mr. Sulu,” Spock commands, sitting forward in his chair.

            “Aye, sir, shields at 100 per cent.”

             The bridge lurches again, and Sulu calls out, “60 percent!”

            “Shit,” I curse. “Phaser banks are down, sir!”

            “Arm photon torpedoes,” Spock instructs Chekov, but the Russian shakes his head.

            “Computers aren’t responding, Captain. The enemy ship is emitting a magnetic pulse, sir, that’s preventing any sort of retaliation. It’s like they know exactly where to hit us.”

            The ship shakes as another round hits us. “Shields at zero percent,” Sulu reports. “They must have advanced weaponry, sir. Our shields shouldn’t be down so soon.”

            “Mr. Scott,” Spock talks into the intercom. “Do we have warp capabilities?

            “Negative, sir. We’re on impulse power.”

            “Lt. Uhura, attempt to hail the ship,” Spock commands, but a female voice cuts him off.

            “That won’t be necessary, Captain.” I whip around to see a beautiful woman standing beside me, her gun pointed at my head. Why is it always me? “I hear you have my father aboard,” she purrs, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “I want him back.”

            “That is impossible,” Spock says, but his eyes flick to me worriedly.

            She pokes me in the side of the head with her gun. “Show me to him.”

            “No,” I say through gritted teeth.

            She shrugs, and hits a button on her gun. An electric current leaps from the weapon and strikes me in the temple, the pain forcing me to my knees. She cocks her head and looks down at me. “Show me to him,” she repeats. I look up at Spock and to my surprise, he nods. My eyes widen but his voice in my head instructs me to take her to Kodos. I stagger to my feet, and lead her to the lift. “You too, Captain,” she tells him, and crooks her finger at him in a signal that he should follow us. She positions herself so that I am between her and Spock, the gun still pressed to my head. We arrive in the brig, and she forces me to take her to Kodos’ cell. When we get there, however, he’s crumpled on the ground in a pool of blood, a huge gash on the side of his head. Even from here, I can tell he’s not breathing. “Father!” She cries, but I know she knows he’s dead too, for real this time.

            The last thing I see is her swinging the butt of her gun at my head.

 

            I wake up in a cold cell, drastically unlike the brig aboard the Enterprise. Speaking of which, where am I? I look up and see the blonde woman sitting outside my cell, watching me.

            “Who are you?” I demand. “And where am I?”

            I can see her eyes are red from crying, but I don’t feel bad in the slightest.  “I am Lenore Karidian.”

            “Kodos’ daughter?” I ask, disgusted.           

            “He wasn’t Kodos anymore!” She snarls. “He had moved past that. He was good.”

            “Changing your lifestyle doesn’t change what you did in the past,” I spit. “Your ‘daddy’ was a murderer.”

            She whips out her gun faster than I thought possible. “I would watch that pretty little mouth of yours,” she says quietly.

            “Where am I?”

            “Aboard the Romulan ship.”

            “You’re in league with the Romulans?” I ask incredulously. “If you think they’re helping you, you’re wrong. They don’t help anyone but themselves.”

            “That’s where you’re wrong,” she laughs. “I want revenge for my father’s death, and they’re all too happy to give it to me. We left your ship stranded in empty space, and we have you.” She cocks her head to the side. “Oh, am I going to have fun with you, Jim Kirk.”

            “How do you know who I am?”

            “I know everything about you,” she smiles. “I did my research when I found out which ship would be taking my father away from me. A Tarsus survivor, huh? How fitting that you are going to be the one to pay the price for his death.” She whistles loudly, and a large Romulan comes and enters my cell. I get to my feet quickly, adopting a defensive position, but it doesn’t do much good. He kicks my chest, sending me flying back into the wall hard. I crack my head on the stone behind me but still manage to get up. He throws a punch that I try to dodge, but it catches me on the eyebrow and splits it open, blood rushing into my eye and clouding my vision. It’s almost pathetic from that point on. He grabs my hair and uses it as leverage as he assaults my face until unconsciousness takes me again.

            The next few days are brutal, rivaling my torture on Organia. I get no food, little water, and I have no strength to defend myself from the daily beatings that wait for me. I’m genuinely scared for my life, because I’m racked with coughs that spew blood, which means I’m bleeding internally and don’t have much time left. I’ve been here for at least three days, but it feels like more so I’m not sure. It’s disturbing to be beaten to death by beings so similar to Vulcans. The way they hold themselves, their strength, even their pointed ears remind me of Spock. It makes it all worse, because I’m heartsick on top of the physical pain. I wonder if I’ll see him again, if I’ll see Bones again and be able to apologize that our last words were spoken in a fight. I wonder if I'll ever hear Chekov's laughter, or see Carol smile, or snuggle I-Chera's face, or watch Scotty curse as he blows something up. All because I’ve gone off and put myself in a life threatening situation; maybe Bones won’t forgive me after all. I woke up this morning with a cup of water by my head, and I downed it thirstily within seconds. Now I am waiting for my captors, waiting for the punishment that I know will come. I almost wish they would just kill me already, but I know the Romulans will not show me any mercy.

            I hear footsteps echoing off the stone steps outside my cell, and I force myself to get to my feet despite the protest that my body makes. I can’t stand up straight or on my own, so I lean against the wall and put a defiant look on my face for when the guards round the corner. But it isn’t a guard who comes into my line of sight; it isn’t Lenore either. It’s Carol, which means I must be hallucinating. “Jim!” She whispers, coming to unlock my cell. I hear the door open and she’s rushing to my side and supporting my weight.

            “Care?” I ask hoarsely. “Am I dreaming?”

            “No, sweetheart, it’s really me. I’m rescuing you.” We start to hurry out of the cell, but it’s hard because I can’t walk right and she’s so tiny to be supporting my weight.

            “How?”

            “Later, hon. I’ll explain later.” She beeps the communicator on her hip. “Scotty, let’s go!”

            I’ve never been so happy to see the transporter pad in my life. Scotty rushes and helps support me, and they both carry me to the sickbay. Bones looks more than shocked to see me but doesn’t say anything, just helps lay me down on the table and sets to work. He begins by regenerating my punctured lung and binding my ribs, and moves on to my broken ankle and tibia. Carol stays and holds my hand but Scotty leaves to do God knows what. After what seems like forever Bones puts down the regenerator and the hypos and looks at me. I'm tired, but somehow manage to stay awake. I see tears in his eyes. “Goddammit, Jim,” he says. “I thought we’d lost you for good this time and I couldn’t live with myself knowing the last thing I said to you was that I wouldn’t care if you died.”

            “I know you didn’t mean it, Bones.” I say reassuringly. “It’s okay.”

            “It’s not,” he shakes his head furiously. “I never should have said that to you.”

            “I deserved it,” I reply, and when he goes to protest I hold up a hand shakily. “Don’t worry about it,” I say. “I mean it, Bones, I love you too, old man.” He hugs me gently and walks away. I turn to Carol. “How did you save me?”

            She looks down sheepishly. “Spock doesn’t know yet.”

            “What?!” I exclaim, aghast.

            She nods her little blonde head. “I…convinced Scotty to beam me over as soon as we got in range. Spock had a meeting to debrief senior officers about the mission to get you back. I didn’t want to wait that long, so I coerced Scotty into helping me out. I figured one woman would be easier to beam aboard undetected than a whole rescue team. I imagine Scotty is telling Spock now what we did.”

            “Carol,” I say, shocked and still processing her words. “You could’ve been killed.”

            “You almost were killed,” she points out. “I had to do something.”

            The ship trembles around us as we hear phasers being fired. “I guess Spock’s making fast work of that other ship, huh?”

            “It wouldn’t surprise me. We were all a wreck after you were taken, especially Spock. Well,” she amends, “a wreck for a Vulcan.”

            Speaking of a Vulcan, mine flies into the room two seconds later and jogs to my side. Carol lets go of my hand and quietly exits the room, giving us some privacy. I open my mouth to defend her before Spock can say anything, but he cuts me off with a desperate kiss. _I love you irrevocably_ , I tell him, and he responds by pressing his lips to mine more wildly. I cup his jaw in my hand and bring him closer, practically inhaling him. He braces his hands on either side of me and kisses me frantically, uncontrollably, as if we don’t have enough time and we never will. I can’t breathe and it’s wonderful, and I decide I would rather die right here of asphyxiation from his lips rather than ever let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the angsty stuff in the story, other than a few road bumps in the next couple of chapters, but everything ends well so....yeah! Please oh please, comment and tell me what you think darlings. I so appreciate the feedback, it really does make my day.


	22. The Natural Allure of Oceanic Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew stops off at Varepotia for much-needed dilithium crystals, and Jim stumbles into a bout of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, so we're getting close to the end. I have no idea when then next chapters will be up, so bear that in mind. I don't even have them outlined completely yet, to be honest, so it may be a while, especially with all my testing coming up and such. Thanks for sticking around! I didn't quite know how to end this chapter, so about a third of the way through I skim over a lot of the happenings because there's a lot of details I didn't want to add in because I'm lazy. Sorry for that, but it is how I wanted to portray that in light of the main plot of this chapter.  
> xoxoxoxo

The injuries that I sustained on the Romulan ship were not as bad as I’d originally thought. I had a broken rib that punctured a lung, and a broken tibia and ankle, all of which were easily healed through Bones’ regenerator. He released me for full duty yesterday, something I am severely grateful for. Have I mentioned how much I hate medical leave, no matter how short it is? Finally, after a week, I get to do something fun. The ship is approaching orbit around Varepotia, an absolutely gorgeous planet with numerous dilitium and rubindium mines. Varepotia is on good terms with the federation, and we are travelling there to collect a store of dilithium to bring with us to the next Starbase for refitting. The chambers holding our crystals are worn, and the ship requires a replacement as soon as possible. Scotty’s livid about the condition they are in. “Damn near blowing our engines, we are!” He had shouted through the com when he alerted the captain to the circumstances. “We need to replace our dilithium crystals immediately if we all want to stay in one piece. They report should have been filed weeks ago! When I get my hands on the ensign who performed the inspection…”

            “Thank you for bringing the situation to my attention, Mr. Scott,” Spock had said calmly while I stifled a snicker behind my hand. “We will divert our course to the nearest dilithium holders presently, and report to the nearest Starbase for a refit.”

            “Aye, I appreciate it, sir. I’ll feel much better once our lady is working at her full capacity once more. She’s a beauty, and she ought not to be treated like garbage. _Oi!_ ” He had shouted at someone in the background. “ _Barnes! I thought I told you to check the dilithium stores._ ” A muffled response followed. “ _Oh, you did, did you? Well, you must be mental to think those are in good enough shape to travel through space at warp speed! Are you daft?!_ ” Spock had shut off the transmission before the bridge crew burst into laughter.

            I’m kind of disappointed that our stop on Varepotia is just a quick beam up of supplies. The planet’s royal family is always hospitable towards Federation officers, and their palace is supposed to be beautiful, not to mention the spectacular view. I’ve heard the building is situated at the top of a large drop-off that oversees the clear blue ocean. I wouldn’t mind going down and surveying the scenery. Unfortunately, if the ship is in as dire of a problem as Scotty claims, time is not a luxury that we can afford right now.

            We assume standard orbit and Spock hails King Klaine below. The friendly face appears on our view screen, and I am struck by his appearance. Varepotians are almost exactly like humans, except for the fact that their eye and hair colors are reversed. Klaine, for example, has dark blue-almost-violet hair, and fiery orange eyes, with flecks of grey throughout. It’s a quite interesting sight. “Ah, Captain! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            “You as well, Your Majesty,” Spock inclines his head politely.

            “Please,” he admonishes with a warm smile. “Call me Klaine.”

            “As you wish, Klaine. This is my First Officer, Commander Kirk.”

            “Commander,” he gives a small wave. “Greetings. It is my hope—and my wife’s as well—that you will both come down and join us for dinner so we may have a proper chat.”

            “I am afraid we cannot, sir. We are in urgent need for dilithium crystals. The ship requires them terribly.” Spock responds. “It is unfortunate that we cannot converse in greater length.” The com beeps from the arm of his chair, and he gestures apologetically. “I am sorry, sir, but I must speak with my engineer.”

            “Oh, it’s no problem.” Klaine responds, but he looks deeply disappointed that we won’t be transporting down.

            Spock turns to the chair. “Mr. Scott, report.”

            “Sir, we’ll have to land for a few hours while I try to drag out some sort of reserve power,” Scotty yells over the noise in Engineering. “We don’t have enough power to keep orbit and make it all the way to the Starbase.”

            “Understood, Mr. Scott. Landing procedure will be executed.” He turns back to the view screen. “It seems as though we must land in order to reserve power. Is this acceptable?”

            Klaine nods emphatically. “Of course! Now it is prominent for you to dine with us. The rest of your crew can relax in the meantime.”

            “Indeed. We shall land shortly.”

            “We will welcome you then.” Klaine smiles widely. “Goodbye, Captain.”

            The transmission cuts out, and Spock tells Sulu to carefully land us on the planet near the palace. There is a slight jolt as we touch the ground, and Spock motions for me to follow him to the turbo-lift. He stops next to Nyota on the way. “Lt, have Dr. McCoy meet us in the transporter room.”

            “Aye, sir,” she responds, and the two of us enter the turbo-lift. I can’t stop myself from bouncing on the pads of my feet.

Spock looks at me curiously. “You are eager for our arrival on Varepotia’s surface?”

“Well, yeah,” I reply with a grin. “It’s supposed to be beautiful down there.”

“I have heard it is pleasing to look at,” he admits, “though I had not considered the idea previously.”

“You’re too focused on duty,” I tease, and we step out of the turbo-lift on the appropriate deck.

“It is my responsibility,” he reminds me in a somewhat condescending tone.

“Captains are allowed to enjoy the ride too, you know,” I retort, bumping him lightly with my shoulder as we walk. He shifts his weight to return the gesture, making me stumble slightly. I narrow my eyes at him but he gives me an innocent look, making me roll my eyes in response. We arrive in the transporter room and step onto the pad where Bones is already waiting.

“What took you so long?” Bones demands impatiently. “I have work to do in the sickbay, unlike some people, so let’s make this quick.”

“C’mon, Bones. Lighten up! Besides, haven’t you heard? We’ve landed, so we’re going to be here a while. We were personally invited to dine with the king and queen.”

He sighs, and Spock turns to the station manager. “Energize.”

We rematerialize on healthy green grass, and a light breeze ruffles my hair. I spin in a slow circle, taking in everything around us. The sky is bright blue, not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature is almost perfect. It’s like a perfect piece of paradise. We’re standing in front of a huge stone palace, looking like something out of an old fairytale book. It’s set atop a cliff, and the view of the ocean unbridled before us takes my breath away. Small daisies of various colors are scattered amongst the ground, and I walk over to pick one near us. I smell it briefly and smile at the sweet scent before offering it to Spock with a wink. Bones gags behind us and starts off towards the palace, but Spock just takes the flower with a raised eyebrow and holds it delicately between his fingers. Three figures exit the large doors in front of us, and we walk to meet them.

Klaine’s orange eyes shine brightly as he takes us in. “Gentlemen! I am so glad you are able to join us tonight. It is an honor.”

“We are delighted for the opportunity to visit,” I answer, returning his smile with one of my own. “It’s fantastic here.”

“We are lucky to inhabit the area,” Klaine agrees. “Oh, goodness, I am so rude. This is my gorgeous wife Elaina, and my daughter, Caity.” He waves to the pretty woman and the young girl with dark hair next to him. They both smile, and the little girl curtsies courteously, making me grin.

“Hello, sirs, and welcome to our kingdom,” she trills in her small voice. “It is my pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

Klaine looks on at his daughter proudly as I bow to her. “You are mistaken, miss. The pleasure is all mine,” I say, and kiss her hand lightly. Bones rolls his eyes at my grandeur, but Caity looks delighted as she takes her place beside her mother. She leans forward to ask her mother something, and when Elaina nods, she runs off at a safe distance to the edge of the cliff to pick some daisies. I follow and kneel next to her, and begin to help her secure a good-sized bouquet.

“It is for the dinner table,” she explains seriously, and I nod in response.

“It’ll look wonderful there,” I say, and she looks down and blushes a little. I look over to the group to see them staring at me, the king nodding happily, and Bones smirking at me gathering flowers. I lock eyes with Spock and I feel a wave of affection wash over me through the bond, and suddenly Caity isn’t the only one blushing. After we’ve gathered a sizable amount of daisies, I stand and help Caity to her feet. We both take a step forward when suddenly the ground beneath us shifts, making the whole landscape shudder. The planet is prone to earthquakes, so I hold on to the girl to keep us both on our feet, when another tremor rocks the cliff-side. A huge crack appears about three yards before us, and the whole corner of the huge ledge we’re standing on starts to pitch forward. I swoop up Caity in my arms immediately, and I sprint for the chasm starting to form. I see Spock start at a run, but I know that even with his superior speed he won’t reach us in time. The overhang disconnects entirely from the cliff and drops towards the ocean below, taking Caity and I with it. I lunge desperately towards the edge, and my hand scraps a handhold as the ground beneath us falls away. Caity screams and I clutch at the piece of rock frantically. Our downward momentum pulls at the joint in my shoulder, and I yell out in agony as my arm dislocates from its socket. By some miracle, I don’t lose my grip, but I don’t know how long I can hold this position. I look up through the tears in my eyes, and I think we’re just out of reach from the edge. The group will have to get a rope or something in order to pull us up. Pain lances up my shoulder every second, and I hold on to Caity tightly so as to not drop her.

Spock appears in my line of vision. “Jim!” He calls, and futilely reaches out a hand.

 _My shoulder’s dislocated,_ I tell him mentally because if I loosen my jaw I’ll scream from the pain. _I can’t reach up to you._

_We will secure a rope momentarily. Hold on, Jim._

_I wasn’t planning on letting go,_ I say sardonically.

True to his word, seconds later Bones appears with a long woven rope in his hands. They both grip one end and throw the other down next to Caity and me. I swallow down my pain so I can tell Caity what to do. “Okay sweetie,” I tell her, my voice strained. “You’re going to have to let go of me and grab the rope with both hands. The doctor and my captain will pull you up to safety.” She nods, but I can tell she’s horribly frightened, and for good reason; the drop is at least 200 feet: probably not high enough to kill me, but certainly likely to harm her small frame. “Just don’t look down,” I whisper encouragingly, and she carefully unwraps her arms around me determinedly and grabs the rope in one hand tightly, and lets go of me completely in order to quickly grab the rope with the other. Spock and Bones immediately begin to hoist her up, and when she’s close enough Spock holds the rope steady as Bones pulls her over the ledge.

Spock throws the rope back down next to me, and as I reach out to grasp it my handhold breaks beneath my fingers. I scramble for a grip on the rope, ignoring my shoulder’s protests, and I feel the material slip between my fingers with a burn as I hurtle towards the waves. _Jim!_ Spock calls, but then my back hits the water as hard as concrete, and I’m disoriented. Water surrounds me, swirling and bubbling and masking the way to the surface. I still my movements and let out a breath, observing which way the air bubbles rise. I follow them, gasping for oxygen when my head breaks the water line. I tread water one handedly to keep myself afloat, and struggle to swim towards the beach. Briefly, between my strokes, I see figures sprinting out onto the sand towards me. When I’m close enough that I feel rocks beneath my feet, I stumble and try to walk, cradling my injured arm into my chest and panting for air. Spock rushes out to meet me, water up to his knees and I’m leaning heavily on him and soaking his uniform. My whole body aches from the impact of the water and then swimming to the shore. They hurry me up to the palace and everything gets kind of fuzzy, and then I’m in dry clothes and sitting in a room with Spock by my side, though my arm is still limp and aching.

“We need to get him to the ship,” Bones insists, but Spock shakes his head.

“The ship is powered down,” he replies. “Mr. Scott cannot resume power for at least another six standard hours while he reroutes the main circuit board and power systems. It is not possible to transport anyone aboard, including Jim.”

“Can’t you just pop it back in?” I ask, gesturing with my good arm. “You are a doctor, aren’t you?”

“Jim, I can’t just—”

“I believe we have a solution,” Klaine cuts Bones off, striding into the room towards me with a purpose. He grasps my hand tightly, and little Caity comes skipping in after him. “Thank you, Mr. Kirk. I cannot thank you enough for saving my daughter’s life. We owe you more than we can grant, I’m afraid, but I can offer you this.” Caity holds out her hand and I see a small blue berry lying in her palm. “It will heal all of your injuries.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Bones butts in. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Absolutely,” Klaine says solemnly. “I would not offer it otherwise.”

“I don’t have a tricorder on me,” Bones turns to me. “I can’t scan it to see if it really is or not. You shouldn’t eat it, Jim.”

“I can’t just refuse their gracious gift, though.” I reach out to take the berry from the small girl. She steps forward and throws her arms around me gently, minding my hurt shoulder.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and I hear tears in her tiny voice. I rub her back with my closed hand, careful not to drop the berry.

“No apology is necessary, sweetie,” I reassure her, and she pulls back, wiping her large brown eyes.

Everyone watches me anxiously as I pop the berry into my mouth and bite down. It tastes just like a blueberry, bitter and sweet at the same time. At first, nothing happens, but then I feel slight discomfort in my shoulder as the fibers pull my arm back into place. The pain recedes completely. I roll the joint experimentally, and nothing seems out of place. I beam at the king and the princess.

“Remarkable,” Bones breathes, and that when I start to feel the pit of my stomach churn. The uneasiness turns into full on panic as my stomach erupts in blooms of pain, spreading from my abdomen all over my body. I hit the floor on my knees, doubled over and trying to stop myself from screaming. I squeeze my eyes shut as the agony peaks, and I see white lights as the biggest headache of my life takes root in my mind. My head throbs, every beat sending waves of torment throughout my being. All at once, quickly enough that it’s dizzying, the pain stops. I’m lying on my back on the cool stone floor, and when I open my eyes they’re all gathered around me, eyes staring in shock. I sit up slowly, but there’s no discomfort, and a lock of hair falls over my shoulder.

Why is my hair long enough to reach past my shoulder? I pick up the strand in my fingers. WHY IS IT BLUE? I look down at the rest of my body, but nothing is comprehending in my head. I see a significantly smaller frame attached to dainty hands. I’m swimming in my clothes, but definite curves stick out and strain against certain areas of the material. I look up at Spock and he sends me a mental image of myself.

I am a woman.

What the actual fuck.

Holy shit.

“I’m a woman,” I announce dumbly, but nobody responds. I try to get to my feet and Spock helps me up, and I am way, way, way shorter than him. I mean, I’ve always been a good four inches shorter, but now I’m talking like a full foot shorter. Bones is full on staring with his mouth open, and both the king and the princess have a deer-in-headlights expression. Only Spock is keeping his cool, but I can feel his astonishment through the bond. I turn to the king. “Why am I a woman?” I ask, and my voice comes out in a sweet melody that sounds foreign to me.

“I…have no idea,” the king says, and I believe him wholeheartedly. I don’t think he planned for this to happen, and I am almost hopelessly certain that he has no idea how to fix it.

“We can run medical scans when we beam back aboard the ship,” Bones offers, but I can see that he’s taken completely off guard.

No one knows how to approach the situation, especially me. I tug at my clothes uncomfortably and Spock notices. “Perhaps…different attire would be more suitable?” He suggests, and as odd as the thought seems, I agree. Caity bustles from the room and returns a moment later holding a dark grey garment in her hands.

“You might need some help,” she says awkwardly, and motions for me to follow her. She leads me into a small wash room, and turns politely away as I undress and fumble with the underwear.

“How do women wear these?” I mutter as I fumble with the brassiere. “It’s like a deathtrap!”

Caity giggles, and once I’m covered she turns around to help me into the dress. It’s so weird, I swear to God, because I am usually very much male, and slipping into a dress that fits me appropriately is the strangest thing I’ve ever had to do. And that’s saying something. I turn to look at the large reflective surface resembling a mirror behind me. And I stare at myself for a long time.

Long wavy cerulean locks flow around my face and past my shoulders, settling halfway down my back. Dirty blonde-hazel eyes stare back at me from a feminine face, high cheekbones and full pink lips moving experimentally as I study myself. Caity has put me in a charcoal grey outfit synonymous with a medieval dress, only lighter and less stifling, I imagine. Damn, I must say, I make one curvy woman. Large breasts fill the top of the dress, and the material folds around my thin waist and juts out around my wide hips. And I’m short, extremely short, even for a female, barely reaching five foot two. I’m pretty hot, if I do say so myself, even with the blue hair and blonde eyes.

Caity leads me back into the room, the gown swishing around me unfamiliarly as I walk, and all three men stare as we enter the room. I feel incredibly self-conscious all of a sudden and I have to fight the impulse to run back to the washroom and hide. I don’t meet any of their eyes as I take up my place next to Spock. “So,” Klaine clears his throat. “I believe dinner should be ready to consume. If you will all follow me.” He walks out of the big oak doors leading to a different room, and we all accompany him. I can feel someone’s stare boring into the back of my head, so I turn around and meet Bones’ eyes.

“Can I help you?” I ask pointedly, but he just shakes his head and looks away.

I catch Spock’s gaze as I spin back around, and he raises an eyebrow in response. _I’m a woman,_ I tell him brilliantly, and even in my head my voice is like a musical.

 _I am aware,_ he responds amusedly, and then pauses. _Your female form is as aesthetically pleasing as your male form._

I don’t even try to hide my grin. _Thanks, sweetheart._ I brush my fingers against the back of his hand subtly as we walk because I’m glad he’s still attracted to me, as silly as my worry was that he wouldn’t be. He surprises me by taking my hand in his own; he's so rarely affectionate in public, especially on missions, and I'm delighted by this small display. Dinner passes quickly, light pleasantries and small talk the main conversation between us, but I can tell everyone is itching for it to end. Afterwards, we get a tour of the palace, but luckily midway through Scotty coms us, signaling that the ship is ready to leave immediately. We say our parting words—I hug Caity goodbye—and then we’re back home, and Bones is dragging me to the sickbay by an arm.

“Ouch!” I protest. “Bones, I’m not as strong as usual right now!”

His grip loosens, but his pace quickens, and we make it to sickbay in record time. He starts scanning me instantaneously and the tricorder beeps wickedly as he holds it near my body. Bones sighs with relief.

“What have you discovered?” Spock demands, standing close to me protectively, though I’m not quite sure why; we aren’t under a threat.

“It was a mild form of a damn allergic reaction,” Bones laughs.

“Mild?” I ask incredulously, looking at him as if he’d gone mad.

“Considering the qualities of that magic fruit, I’d say yes, mild. You were damn lucky, Jim. That thing could’ve killed you.”

I wave his statement away. “Spare me the lecture. Can you turn me back?”

He shrugs. “I won’t need to. The reaction, since it’s mainly harmless besides the initial transformation, should wear off over time. I’m thinking about three weeks at the most. I guess you can be the maid of honor instead of the best man in my wedding.” Bones grins.

“Wait,” I say slowly. “Did you say wedding?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Holy shit!” I exclaim, and step forward to hug him. It’s kind of awkward because he has to bend down and I have to stand on my toes, but we make it work. I squeeze him back happily. “It’s about damn time!”

“Oh shut up,” he responds, but I can tell he doesn’t mean it. Spock shakes his hand after we release each other, and Bones is blushing furiously over the attention. “Go get some sleep,” he orders. “I don’t know how your metabolism will react during this change, especially under this amount of stress. I don’t want you going through something that won’t actually wear off on its own.”

“Yes sir,” I grin, and take Spock’s hand in order to lead him to our quarters. We get a lot—and I mean a damn lot—of strange looks along the way, but I don’t really care. The rumor of my gender change will travel around soon enough. It doesn’t really bother me; it’s just weird being a hell of a lot more petite than I’m used to.

We run into Carol along the way and she does a double take when she sees Spock holding my hand. Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Captain,” she says haughtily, “who’s this?”

“Calm down, Care,” I hold out a hand placating. “It’s me, Jim.”

Her eyes widen comically. “Jim? What the fuck happened to you? Why are you so pretty all of the sudden?”

“I’m always pretty,” I start indignantly. “I ate a magic berry and it turned me into a woman.”

She starts laughing so hard that tears leak from the corners of her eyes. I sigh exasperatedly and drag Spock along, leaving Carol in the hallway giggling to herself. We get to our quarters without any more interactions and when we’re in the privacy of our own room I plop down on the bed. “I’m tired,” I groan, and I swear I hear Spock chuckle behind me. “It’s not funny,” I protest, sitting up and glaring at him.

He raises an eyebrow. “It is slightly amusing.”

I just glare at him some more and his mouth quirks upwards. “It’s not funny!” I say again, but I can feel myself starting to smile as well.

“You look quite…” He trails off, looking for the right word, “Cute.” I-Chera sneaks out from under the bed and peers at me curiously. She shifts toward me and sniffs the air, and then leaps into my arms. She purrs contentedly as I stroke her little ears, and Spock’s miniscule smirk widens into a grin. “Especially so, now.”

“I hate you,” I deadpan, but it only amuses him more. “I really, truly, hate you.”

“You do not,” he repudiates, but I just nod vehemently.

“I do. Right now, in this moment, I so do.”

He comes over and skims my cheek with his lips, kissing a light trail across to my ear. “And now?”

“Uh, not so much.” I swallow.

“Do you recant your statement?” His mouth travels down the slope of my neck.

“Uh, yep.”

He sits back and looks at me, satisfied, “Good.”

           

            The next week is horrible. I get catcalled all the damn time, despite most of the crew knowing my identity, but no one seems to care. I’ve noticed that most of my ‘admirers’ are male—straight males, I might add—but there are quite a few female crew members who stare or whistle as well when I walk by. It’s downright disrespectful and also a bit flattering, if I’m to be honest. The worst one happens as I make a run to check on the labs during my shift. I step out of the lift and almost instantly I’m cornered by an ensign in Security. His red shirt brushes up against my science blues as he backs me into a corner. “Mm, look who we have here,” he murmurs repulsively in my ear. His proximity makes me cringe, and I give him a fierce look and attempt to shove my way past him. Unfortunately, he’s a rather large man, especially contrasted against my tiny frame. He uses his strength to shove me into my previous place, forcing my back against the wall. I try to knee at his groin, but he shifts just enough that I miss and he pins my legs against the wall with his own and captures both of my wrists in one hand despite my furious struggling. I’m completely trapped.

            “No, no, no,” he coos, and it makes my blood boil.

            “I am your commanding officer,” I snarl, trying to put as much authority as I can into my feminine voice. “Release me immediately.”

            He laughs, actually laughs, right in my face. “I don’t think so, _Commander_.” His teeth tug on my earlobe and shudder in loathing.

            I swallow my pride and cry out, “Help! Somebody help me!” My voice shrieks and echoes through the corridor, but there is no one within earshot. His free hand clamps over my mouth.

            “None of that,” he warns, “or this could go very badly for you.”

            I glare daggers at him, panic starting to bloom in the pit of my stomach.

            _Jim?_ Spock’s thought enters my mind. _What is delaying your return to the bridge?_

 _Spock, I need you, please hurry._ I don’t know why I didn’t think of the bond from the beginning. I must have been so flustered I completely blanked. I’m such an idiot.

            _I am on my way,_ he promises, but I’m distracted from his words by the ensign moving his body closer. I start thrashing beneath his grip but there’s nowhere for me to go. He removes his hand from my mouth and presses his lips forcefully against mine, breathing against me and making me gag in response. And suddenly, the pressure against me is gone, his weight completely removed. I sag against the wall and look at Spock standing over the crumpled man at our feet. Spock looks down at the ensign, his eyes utterly homicidal. “Are you alright?” He demands, looking over me with concern.

            I hold up a hand. “I’m fine, just entirely grossed out.”

            He reaches out and pulls me towards him, his touch cleansing my body of the filth the ensign left behind. “I cannot leave you alone for a single moment.” Spock says exasperatedly, anger still present in his tone. He tucks my head under his chin. “The thought of him touching you in any way angers me immensely.”

            “You and me both,” I sigh into his shirt. “I can’t wait until I’m a guy again.”

            “I concur.” He pulls out his communicator and signals a security team to come and dispose of the unconscious ensign. “He is to be placed in the brig until we arrive at the Starbase,” Spock commands, still holding me against him and almost daring the men to get too close. “I desire the ensign be removed from my vessel as quickly as possible.”

            “Yes sir,” chime the men, and the still-unconscious ensign is relocated to the brig.

 

            Bones and Carol update me about a few of the wedding details, and surprisingly, it’s really simple. “We don’t want anything elaborate,” Carol explains when we talk about it ‘girl to girl’.

            “What, got that out of your system while planning mine?” I tease, but she unexpectedly nods.

            “It was beautiful,” she admits, “and perfect for you and Spock, but it made me realize that I don’t want all the glamour. I just want a small ceremony focused on Leonard and me.”

            “Are you having it on the ship?” I ask.

            “I think so, I mean, it’s where we first got together and it’s our home. Where else should we have it, especially if it’s not going to be large?”

            “True. Who’s all going?”

            “We don’t want it to be public: just us, you and Spock, Scotty and Nyota, with Spock officiating as captain.”

            “I think it will be wonderful,” I tell her truthfully, and she beams in response.

 

            The night before her wedding, we have a girls’ night, Nyota, Carol, and me. It’s odd because I’m not technically a girl but whatever, I just roll with it because the whole situation is confusing and Carol wants me there with them. Mainly, it consists of us getting wasted and giggling at stupid things. Now, I have never giggled in my life and the noise that comes out of my mouth surprises me so much that I almost fall off the chair I’m barely sitting in, which makes Carol and Nyota laugh even harder. And then I laugh harder in response and promptly fall on my ass on the floor, and proceed to giggle some more. I usually handle my liquor with more dignity, but apparently my metabolism doesn’t agree with being inebriated right now, so I end up making a fool of myself and vowing never to speak of that night again. I make both of them take an oath to never tell anyone, and they swear, but I know Carol won’t remember that in the morning.

            She replicates a wedding dress on the ship using her credits and the morning of the ceremony I help her change into the gown. She’s beautiful, her hair curled in ringlets and the garment draping down her frame lightly, flowing almost like tissue paper around her. Nyota’s wearing a silver dress with matching earrings, and I am just planning on wearing my science blues until Carol finds out. “Oh no, you are not wearing that,” she protests, and steers me towards her closet.

            “Care, I really don’t need to change,” I insist, but she ignores me and forces me to change in to a royal blue dress that flows to my knees. I look in the mirror as she brushes my hair, and I gape for a second at my reflection, at the cerulean irises staring back at me. “My hair’s not blue!” I exclaim, and Carol nods.

            “It changed back to blonde last night,” she comments. “I think the berry’s starting to wear off slowly.”

            “Thank God,” I exhale, and turn to her as she stops fiddling with my appearance. “You look beautiful, Care. I mean it, really.”

            She blushes. “Thanks, Jim. You too.”

            Weird. We walk down to the observation deck, where Bones, Spock, and Scotty are all waiting. Nyota rushes into the room to take her place next to Spock. I’m walking Carol down the aisle, just like she did for me. I take her hand instead of her arm, and we walk into the room together. I watch Bones’ face as he takes in Carol, and I smile at how his face lights up in pure happiness. Glancing at Carol, I see her face reflects Bones’ exactly. It warms my heart. We arrive in front of the makeshift altar, and I place Carol’s hand in Bones’. They both look at me gratefully for a split second before turning their eyes back to each other. Spock reads through the vows quickly, and soon Bones is dipping Carol for a grand sealing of their marriage bonds. The six of us spend the night laughing and conversing happily, but I can tell Carol and Bones want to sneak off and devour each other, so I nudge Spock and we excuse ourselves for the night, giving one last hug to both of them, and Nyota takes the tipsy Scotty and retires as well.

            When Spock and I get back to our quarters, we lie in bed and just share each other’s company. I remember our own wedding day—both of them—and I’m happy that Bones and Carol found that in each other. I snuggle close to Spock and he wraps his body around my smaller one, and we drift off to sleep contentedly in each other’s arms.

            About a week later, after we get the crystals refitted and leave the Starbase, I turn back into a dude. There’s no warning, not even any pain this time. I’m just sitting on the bridge when suddenly my clothes are tearing and squeezing me awkwardly, and I’m sitting at my station in ripped tights and a science blue dress with my muscles bulging out everywhere. I sit there stunned for a moment, before the command crew bursts into friendly laughter, the bastards. I bolt for the lift, my face bright red, but hell I’m laughing myself because I have the worst damn luck in the entire universe. Spock follows me to our quarters and successfully manages to finish ripping the fabric off of my body, which I don’t mind at all. “Your natural form is much more pleasing,” he whispers roughly between our haste kisses. “I had forgotten how much I enjoy it.”

                “You can enjoy it all you want,” I reply huskily, giving him a heated look. “It’s all yours.”

            And damn, does he make good on my invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't a lot of k/s in this chapter, and it kind of killed me to write it that way, but it had to happen. The last two chapters are going to make up for it though, I promise you. Also, i should probably clarify: no children will be a result of fem!kirk.


	23. An Unexpected but Wonderful Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock goes through a difficult time and Jim is there to comfort him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost to the end! Thanks so much to the people who've stuck around this far. While the last two chapters aren't super long, I hope they don't disappoint.

“Jim, you’d better get your ass to my sickbay before I have to drag you down here myself,” Bones’ ever-so-pleasant voice grumbles through the communicator at Spock’s chair. I sigh at my station, and swivel to glance at the captain, sitting impeccably straight and giving me a raised eyebrow.

            “I’m busy,” I call loud enough for the com to pick up my voice, but I know my excuse won’t do any good.

            “Yeah, you’ve ‘been busy’ for the past week that I’ve been trying to get you in for your physical. It isn’t going to work this time. You have five minutes before I come up there and grab you by your ear.” Bones cuts the transmission.

            I wince, “Damn.”

            “You are dismissed, Commander,” Spock says amusedly. “I suggest you hurry to the medical facilities before the doctor resorts to unpleasant means of transporting you there.”

            “Ha, yes, it’s very amusing,” I stick my tongue out at him childishly. “You’re next, Captain, and I know you love physicals just as much as I do.”

            My comment has the desired effect, and he scowls minutely, just enough for me to notice. I make my way to the sickbay with a smug expression, although I’m dreading my examination. Bones is always way too eager to shoot me up with some unknown hypos. I enter the room and hop up on the nearest bio-bed. “About damn time,” Bones mutters as he walks out of his office and to my side.

            “It’s great to see you too, Bones,” I grin, and he makes a face at me.

            “Shut up and lie down,” he orders, and I give him a mock salute.

            “Yes sir!” I shout in his face, just to annoy him.

            “You’re insufferable,” he says, and shoves me on my back. I probably shouldn’t have goaded him, because now he’ll take his sweet time finishing my appointment. He seems to make me do more exercise routines than necessary, and just as I expected, he jams about three different hypos with brightly colored substances into the juncture between my neck and shoulder.

            “Ow,” I complain, and rub the tender spot.

            “Don’t be an infant,” he chides as I slip my shirt back on over my head. The bond in my head twitches weirdly, and I reach for it in concern, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. I frown for a moment until a wave of lust washes over me. I have to smother a grin; Spock must really miss me up on the bridge. I try to refocus on Bones as he starts talking to me again. “Hey, make sure you get the hobgoblin to see me after this. He’s as bad as you.”

            “I wonder why,” I say drily, but Bones just rolls his eyes.

            “Have you noticed anything odd about him lately?”

            “Who? Spock?” I look at him inquisitively. “No. Why?”

            “He’s seemed…abnormally expressive the last couple of days. I was thinking about checking him over for a virus.”

            I shrug. “He seems fine to me, and I think I’d notice if something was off. Although, he always lets me see how he’s feeling, so maybe not…” My eyebrows furrow. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

            “I don’t know, that’s why I want to check him over, but he’s avoiding me.”

            “I’ll talk to him,” I promise, and turn to head out of the door when I notice the red alert light is flashing. “Hey! Why didn’t you tell me?” I jog towards the door, and I see Bones shaking his head over my shoulder.

            “If I jumped every time a light came on around here, I’d end up talking to myself!” He yells at me as I rush to the bridge. I round a corner and run right into Security Officer Daniels. He teeters on his feet and I reach out a hand to steady him, “Ah, sorry man, my bad.”

            “Commander, I was just looking for you, actually,” Daniels responds, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

            “Okay…what’s the problem?” I cross my arms and wait to be debriefed. When Daniels hesitates, I look at him impatiently, “Report.”

            “Well…you better just come with me,” he doesn’t meet my eyes, just turns back the way he came and jogs towards the turbo-lift. I’m right at his heels the whole way. When we regroup in the lift I turn back to him.

            “What’s this all about?”

            “I’m not sure, sir,” Daniels replies, and doesn’t utter another word.

            We arrive in the brig, and Daniels leads me over to a holding cell. I do a double take when I see who’s in containment. “Captain?!” He’s sitting on the bench behind the force field, hunched forward with his head in his hands. At the sound of my voice he looks up, eyes wide and he’s standing in front of me in an instant. I turn to Daniels furiously. “What is the meaning of this?”

            Daniels shifts his feet. “He attacked an officer, sir. We didn’t know what else to do, and the doctor wasn’t responding to our coms.”

            I take off my glasses and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Jesus. Okay, let him out. I’ll take him to our quarters and try to sort all of this out. Is the officer okay?”

            “He’s unconscious, sir, but otherwise he’s unharmed.”

            I look at Spock warily, disturbed as to why he hasn’t spoken throughout this ordeal. He has his shields firmly in place now, so strongly that I’m not even sure I could talk to him through them. I respond to Daniels, but my eyes never leave Spock’s, “Was his…response unprovoked?”

            Daniels shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t know, sir.”

            “Okay, lower the barrier.” Daniels walks over to a panel on the wall and presses in an access code. The force field between us drops, and Spock is plastered to my side immediately. I stagger under his sudden weight, and look at him incredulously. He’s got an arm around my shoulders possessively and he’s looking at Daniels through narrowed eyes. I think Daniels’ eyes might pop out of his head. “Uh…dismissed.” I tell him, and he bolts out from under Spock’s glare. I turn to look at Spock in disbelief but my earlobe is suddenly assaulted by his teeth. I push his face away and slip out of his arm but keep a firm hold on his wrist. “Something is seriously wrong right now,” I tell him and proceed to lead him to our quarters. He goes willingly, slipping his fingers into mine and squeezing tightly.

            When we get to the room I pull my hand out of his and he visibly pouts. Spock, pouting; I’ve officially seen it all. I look at him, my nose scrunched in confusion, “What is going on with you? Maybe we should go see Bones…” A quiet growl sounds from somewhere in his chest, and my already bewildered glance deepens. I hold up my hands in front of me. “Okay, no Bones.” He takes a step forward, and I take a step back. He looks frustrated, and continues forward until my back is against the wall and his hands come up to skim my sides.

            “You don’t attack random people because you want sex,” I point out. “Is this a Vulcan thing?”

            _It is called Pon Farr,_ the words float into my head. _We do not speak of it._

            “Well, you’re going to speak of it,” I tell him aloud, just so my voice will distract me from his proximity.

            _It is my time._

“Time for what?”

            _For my blood to burn for you._

            “I don’t even know what that means.”

            He lets his shields down, and I’m assaulted by passionate feelings, ones I’ve experienced before but never at this intensity. Love, affection, attraction, commitment, possessiveness, desire, longing. The predominant one is lust, a burning fiery desire for me that it makes it hard to breath.

            “Mating time,” I whisper. “Got it. Vulcan biology.”

            He doesn’t reply, just turns his face into my shoulder and nuzzles the underside of my jaw with his nose. I figure trying to question him over this phenomenon will be pointless, so I enthusiastically give in to his attentions. I hook a finger under his chin and pull his lips up to mine, tongues twining together eagerly. Wrapping both arms around his neck I pull our bodies closer, using the wall for support. He grinds our hips together, making me gasp into his mouth. I push him back enough that I can get my shirt off over my head. He takes the opportunity to do the same, and then his eyes roam over the muscles on my chest. “I like you like this,” I say breathlessly, and he wipes my smirk off with a kiss. I feel his hands wander down my abdomen, tracing the indents and definitions on my body. I lean into his touch, gripping his shoulders tightly and biting his lower lip.

            He makes an odd growl-purr sound uncannily similar to I-Chera’s, and he picks me up, propping my weight against the wall. I wrap my legs around his waist for leverage, crushing our mouths together forcefully. I faintly register the door opening, and a “Fucking Christ!” breaks through our passionate haze.

            Spock drops me immediately, and at the last second I manage to catch myself from falling on my ass. Spock takes a step in front of me, blocking Bones path from me effectively. I hear that deep growl emanating from deep within his chest. He takes a menacing step towards Bones, who looks at him impassively and I grip his waist from behind firmly to keep him in place. I know the hold won’t do much good against his Vulcan strength, but I’m hoping my touch will keep him calm enough to restrain from hurting anything or anyone. It seems to help, because he leans back into my hands. “You should probably leave,” I tell Bones cautiously, gauging Spock’s reaction. His still bristling under my hands, and I know that we’re treading dangerous ground.

            “M’Benga updated me on Spock’s situation,” Bones says carefully. “Jim, he’s nearly feral right now, are you sure—”

            I feel Spock tense against my fingers, and I shoot Bones a pointed look. “I think you should _go_.”

            He holds his hands up, “I just want to check him over to make sure he’s okay.”

            “He’s fine, Bones, please.” When Bones stubbornly stands still, Spock jolts forward, ripping the tricorder from his hands and hurling it against the wall. It shatters loudly, and Bones flinches. I dart between them and place my hands on Spock’s biceps, pushing lightly. “It’s okay,” I tell him, and manage to urge him a couple of steps backward. He looks down at me, his expression softening, and I give him a reassuring smile. He goes pliant in my arms, and I guide him to sit on the bed. “Bones,” I say in a hard tone. “You need to leave.” I hear the door open and shut again, and Spock pulls me onto his lap. He undeniably gentle when he presses his mouth back to mine. I can’t believe Bones had the nerve to insinuate that Spock would ever hurt me, even in this state. He reclines back lying on the bed and propping me on top of him, our lips moving together softly and leisurely despite the lust I know he’s feeling. His hands wander down to unbutton my regulation pants, and I kick them off before pulling his off as well. Our bodies move together, and we revel in the pleasure and passion between us.

            He falls asleep after our hearts stop trying to beat out of our chests and our breathing returns to a normal pace. I watch the lines of his face soften, and listen to the soft breaths puff out from between his parted lips. Knowing he’ll probably sleep for a while, I slip out of his embrace and replace my body with I-Chera’s furry form. She purrs loudly as I tuck her under Spock’s now empty arm and he curls around her. It’s so adorable that I can’t do more than stare at then both for a moment before slipping some clothes on and exiting our quarters.

            I make my way down to the sickbay, and I’m not surprised to see that Bones is still on duty. He works more than any person I’ve ever met, including Spock. I walk up to him and his eyes travel over me uninterestedly. “Oh, good to see you’re still alive.”

            “Oh, knock it off. You knew there wasn’t any danger from Spock, seriously.”

            “No actually, I didn’t,” Bones retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s why I went to check up on you, dumbass. But apparently my concern isn’t needed or wanted.”

            “Bones, you know that’s not what I mean. I just mean that Spock hurting me will never be an issue. You _should_ know this.”

            “I’ve never been familiar with a Vulcan before, Jim, and I certainly haven’t seen one like that. I was just looking out for you.”

            “Yeah, looking out for me against my husband. He’s been nothing but gentle with me.”

            “Really?” He gives me a dubious look. “I highly doubt what you two have been doing can be considered gentle.”

            “Do you really want to hear the details of my sex life? No, I didn’t think so. Anyways, I just came to let you know we’re both fine.” I turn on my heel and return back to my quarters.

            Spock’s still asleep when I get in, and the sour conversation with Bones left a nasty taste in my mouth. I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth, tracing the lines of the marble countertop with my finger. I finish and place the brush back in the cabinet as warm arms suddenly circle my waist and Spock’s chin settles on my shoulder. I grin and look over at him, “Hey there.”

            “The fever has passed,” Spock says as a reply, but he keeps his hold on me.

            “Mm, it’s a shame,” I tease. “I liked that side of you.”

            “I do not know to which aspect you are referring.”

            “Your affectionate side,” I nudge his head with my own.

            “Am I not still displaying my regard for you while not under the influence of Pon Farr?”

            “I like every side of you,” I amend with a smile, and plant a kiss on his cheek. His hands roam down my torso to finger the top of my pants. I give him a playful look, and I see that his lips twitch in response. “That is really distracting,” I tell him.

            His teeth graze my ear. “I intend to do more than distract you.”

“Oh really? Well, then,” and I capture his lips over my shoulder, twining our lips together and brushing the back of his teeth with my tongue. He hums into my mouth and pulls me backwards into the bedroom, and we quickly divest each other of our clothing and resume our previous activities, but this time there’s nothing but love driving us.

            Afterwards, when we’re lying tangled in the sheets with my head on his chest, I ask, “So what is Pon Farr?”

            He looks down at me. “It is the time of mating for my people. It occurs every seven years, and our bodies and minds are driven by the violent passions of my ancestors, before logic dictated our thoughts and actions. We do not speak of our time, because the loss of control over ourselves shames us. Pon Farr is the most common time for Vulcans to pick their mates, though occasionally we become bonded before it takes us.”

            “What if you didn’t have a bondmate?”

            “I would die. The fire in my veins would consume me until I became insane. It is not desirable. I would have returned to Vulcan to be bonded had I not found you.”

            “Oh,” I swallow. I don’t like the sound of that.

My stomach growls loud enough for us both to hear. I sigh, because I’m so comfortable and content in this moment, but hunger pains are twisting my insides. I sit up and brush his mouth with mine before getting out of bed. My feet get caught in the sheets and I tumble onto the floor, landing in a heap beside the bed. Spock’s quiet laugh rumbles around the room and I shake my head as I slip on some shorts and walk over to the replicator. A wave of sadness dangerously close to heartbreak makes my chest ache suddenly, and I whip around to face Spock, food long forgotten. He’s looking at my empty side of the bed mournfully, and I have to wonder if the fever has really passed yet or not. I return quickly to the bed and hover over him, my legs straddling his waist. I situate most of my weight on his abdomen and rest my hands on his chest. “What’s wrong?” I ask softly, completely bewildered.

            He looks at me hungrily, like I might disappear if he blinks. “It is nothing.”

            “Come on, Spock. I know you better than that. You can tell me.”

            “I have refrained from this path of thought because I know it will do no good to dwell on it, but due to my shields being weak as an effect of Pon Farr, I find I cannot push the thoughts from my mind.”

            “It’s okay,” I promise. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”

            His eyes tighten like what I said has made his pain worse. “It is not ‘okay’ Jim. You do not know the nature of my distress.”

            “Then tell me,” I plead. “I want to help you. Please.”

            “One day, you will be gone,” he whispers, and my heart twists in my chest. “You will be gone and I will live on for many years without you. I do not know if I will be able to bear it.”

            I move my hands up to cradle his face. “You have me until the last breath leaves my body,” I vow. “I will be here for you whenever you need me.”

            “I will need you always,” he murmurs, and I grip his cheeks a little tighter.

            “I’m not going anywhere; I’m not leaving you. I’ll always be with you, Spock, even if it’s not physically. When my time comes, it’ll hurt, but you’ll be okay.”

            He glares at me and shakes his head vehemently, “I will not.”

            “You will,” I say firmly. “You’ll move on and find another mate.”

            “No,” he says stubbornly, and I sigh.

            “We still have time,” I remind him. “I will grow old with you and we’ll make the best of our lives together. Okay?” He nods, and I kiss him lovingly. “I love you.”

            “As I love you,” he responds, and his eyes shine up at me from only inches away. My stomach growls again loudly, and he gently pushes up on my shoulders. “You require sustenance.”

            “I’m going, I’m going,” I say, and climb out of bed considerably more gracefully than the last time. I replicate a ham and cheese sandwich for me and some spiced tea for Spock, and bring them both over to the bed. I eat the sandwich in about two bites and yawn. “I’m beat,” I say tiredly, because although Spock dozed for a bit I haven’t, so I curl around him and close my eyes.

            “Sleep,” he tells me, and I slip into blissful oblivion while his fingers tangle in my hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I wrote this based a little off of Amok Time, going off of the fact that Spock exits Pon Farr after his one battle with Kirk. I've read a lot of fics where Spock is super aggressive during this time with Kirk, but I think that a Vulcan would be extremely loving with their mate. Ergo, Spock's behavior. Also, Pon Farr didn't last for days in the episode, so after one session of sex I think it would pass. Hope you enjoyed!


	24. Where We Have Never Gone Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, this is the end. How I've loved writing this and I have to admit I'm sad to let it go. Thanks so much to everyone who's read it all and I really hope the ending is what you wanted. Lots of love.

This is it: the end of our five-year mission. The end, where everyone will part ways and our family will be broken up. Maybe we’ll get another five years, maybe we’ll be grounded. At this point, it’s all so bittersweet that I don’t know what I want. As long as I have Spock by my side, I know I’ll be happy. We could be on a faraway planet mining dilithium for the rest of our lives and I wouldn’t care as long as we’re together. I don’t know what he wants, but I can tell he’s apprehensive about our last mission. He doesn’t know what it will bring for us, and I know he hates the unexpected. Part of him doesn’t want to leave space; he loves gallivanting across unknown galaxies. But another part of him wants to settle down with me and create a stable home for the both of us.

            Our very last mission is on Berefi, a barren sandy planet with very little life form readings, nothing bigger than a few bugs and cacti. We’re going down to survey the planet and then head home, an easy last mission to celebrate five long years in space. I almost wish something more exciting was going to happen, like a send-off for all the hard work we’ve done.

            We go through the procedures for standard orbit, and I line up a science team to take down with me. Spock’s staying aboard since there isn’t anything for him to do, and I’m about to head to the transporter room when I realize I left my survey pack in our room. I run down there quick and grab the bag, and then I meet the landing party on the pad for beam down. We materialize on the planet, beige dust plains stretching for miles in every direction, with a few scattered cacti here and there. I walk over to scan the nearest one, recording the data and moving on to see if the next one is any different. The party is jovial, happy to return home for a rest, and loud conversation in going on between two ensigns who are discussing what they’re going to do when they get to Earth.

            “I’m going to apply for my own ship,” one is yelling from a distance away.

The other one, a short red-headed woman close to me, nods. “I’m going to see if I can’t get reassigned to the Faragot,” she hollers back.

I smile at their exchanges, and I turn to scan a small insect on a cactus when the ground shifts a few feet away. I freeze, and watch as the sand falls away to reveal a hole in the ground. Ten shapes lurch out before I have time to alert the party, and suddenly they’re charging me. One barrels into me, knocking me to the ground and holding a spear at my throat. They’re masked in clothing, and I can’t see the figure’s face. It clicks sounds at me, which my universal translator interprets to, “No sudden movements, and no noise.”

Soon, the other five members of the party are rounded up and forced to their knees around me. The figures surround us, pointing various weapons in our direction. The one holding me at spear-point rips off his mask, and I see a large armadillo shaped creature looming at me, its eyes glowing in the dusk-colored light. It makes those weird clicking noises again, and it says, “Where did you come from, beast?”

I hold up my hands, “We mean you no harm. We are just curious, finding information on your habitat.”

It hisses, and shoves the spear closer to my throat. The tip pricks my skin, and I feel a hot drop of blood form from the contact. “Lies,” it breathes, and raises the weapon to run me through.

“Wait!” I yell, and the creature freezes. “Please! We will go, I promise you. We will leave and never bother you again. We mean you no harm, just honest travelers. Just let us go.”

It seems to consider my proposal, and it makes eye contact with the nine other creatures around us. He makes a few clicks that my translator doesn’t register and nods, and the creatures let us get to our feet. It turns to me and pushes me roughly. “Leave,” it commands, and I nod, reaching to put my tricorder into my pack and grab my communicator. I hit the side button signaling beam up and place it back in the bag. My hand brushes something soft and a growl sounds, making all of the creatures turn in my direction. I-Chera pokes her head out of the bag, her large fangs fully visible, and the creatures scream in outrage. She must have stowed away in my pack, and I realize they’ve probably never seen a furry creature before, let alone one that looks menacing despite her size. They probably think I brought her here as a threat to kill them or something. The leader drags me by my collar away from the group, and they surround me once more.

“Betrayed,” they hiss, and I sigh. Every fucking mission, I should have known. I did wish for more some action, I suppose. I make a split second decision and throw my pack to the nearest ensign, I-Chera still sitting in it, just as the familiar lights surround them. Due to the communicator being in the bag, I’m not included in the transport. I’m left surrounded by giant armadillos. Yippee.

There’s too many of them to fight off, and I really don’t feel like getting a spear caught in my ribs from a struggle, so I go with them as they drag me towards their hole in the ground. I know that there will be absolutely no chance of being beamed out once I go underground, considering we didn’t pick up their life signs when we scanned the planet. Scotty has a closing window of opportunity to lock on to my signal via scanner. I try to drag my feet a little as we walk, trying anything to stall for time, but I’m shoved roughly ahead of the leader and yelled at to go faster. For a second, I feel the familiar tug of the transporters in my lower abdomen, but then I’m being tossed into a hole of darkness.

I try to reach out to Spock through the bond, but the leader slams the butt of his spear into my temple. While I don’t lose consciousness, there’s enough pain to make me lose focus, and I can’t concentrate enough to send any sort of message to Spock. I just feel his presence, worry apparent in his mental tones but comforting all the same. I try to send a picture of the entrance to the tunnels that I’m currently travelling, but my throbbing head makes it impossible to know if he received it clearly or not. The armadillos lead me into a small dungeon room, complete with chained walls and barred windows. I’m forced into the chains, my arms down at my sides and feet weighted to the dirt floor. The temperature down here is cool in sharp contrast to the surface. The air is dry, however, and every breath I inhale brings the taste of dust and grits of sand. The atmosphere is thinner, and I’m having trouble breathing correctly. I try to inhale through my nose but it just makes me sneeze, which in turn brings more dust in my mouth. They send me a disgraceful look after I sneeze, like by expelling the invading powder I have offended them further.

“You will be kept here,” the leader sneers. “Your execution will be tomorrow. Enjoy your last breaths.”

“Wait a minute,” I call after them as they leave the cave room. The leader pops its head back around the corner to glare at me. “I am so sorry for my actions. This is just a big misunderstanding. If you’d only let me explain—”

“Silence!” It cries. “I do not care for your excuses, Fur-bearer. You have threatened our ways; you must pay the price.”

“I did not do it on purpose, I swear,” I plead. “Please, if you’ll only let me go, I will leave you forever. You’ll never see another of my kind again.”

“Nonsense, it lies!” The leader’s crowd jeers at me from the hallway. Its eyes glint at me from the doorway. “You will die, No-armor. Your sly tongue will not release you from your punishment.” They slink away without another word.

Despair clutches at me, and I have to close my eyes to clear my head despite the pain. How many times do I need to be put in these situations? Worrying, dreading, that I’ll never see the people I love again. That I’ll never see Spock again; we won’t grow old, we won’t ever sleep in our cottage again, I’ll never run my fingers through his perfect hair or taste his lips or feel his skin. I’ll never sit under the stars with him and remember our adventures. Everything he just admitting to fearing most will happen and he’ll be left alone.

I lean against that wall for hours, hoping and feeling hopeless, until I’m certain that my death is imminent and occurring within the hour. Every few minutes more creatures walk past me, looking at me as if I am on display. I suppose in a way I am; these people have obviously never encountered a human before, but due to the way they handle me, I’d bet I’m not the first alien species they’ve met. They spit and snarl at me as they pass, and a lot of them let out choking sounds that I’m sure are a laugh. One of them goes so far as to inform me that he’s mounting my head on a wall. Great, now I get to envision my own beheading. At least it will be quick. At least my captors are more gracious than many I’ve had; none of them have tried to assault me besides the hit to my temple. My headache is finally starting to fade, and I try to reach out to Spock again, who has gone quiet in the last few hours. I’m worried that they tried to beam back down to the planet to search for me and were hurt in the attempt. I don’t sense anything from his side, so either he’s not conscious or his shields are extremely strong right now. He probably blocked out all the head pain I was accidently broadcasting.

I hear a scuffle in the hallway, and red phaser light shines down the hallway as I hear a body hit the ground hard. Almost crying with relief, I call out, “I’m down here!” Footsteps hurry towards me, and familiar brown eyes seek out mine as he rushes to my rescue. I’m almost giddy, and I grin at him as he gets closer. “You’re late,” I remark, and his whole body relaxes as he discovers I’m not injured.

“My apologies,” he mutters as he unlocks my chains. I hear a few more officers take down my guards, yelling to each other to hit the creatures’ soft underbellies. Apparently their outer armor is resistant to phaser fire, unfortunately. I rub my tender wrists and grab the phaser Spock offers me, and together we rush from the room. He signals to the party that I’ve been recovered, and they all retreat hastily behind us. We make it above ground, and within seconds we’re standing back on the Enterprise.

“Good to have you back, Commander,” Scotty lilts with a smirk.

“It is good indeed,” I agree, and Spock and I run up to the bridge to get the hell out of here.

We don’t have a moment to talk until much later, when we’re both off-duty with our reports finished. I’m typing up my last sentence when Spock walks out of the shower, dressed in his sleepwear and towel drying his hair. I finish my last piece of work and set the PADD aside, motioning for him to join me on the bed. He sits next to me, and I play with a few strands of his damp hair. “You haven’t said much,” I comment, and he blinks in what I interpret as a noncommittal shrug. “I’m okay,” I remind him, discarding his hair in favor of twining our fingers together.

He leans his forehead against my shoulder, “I wish to discuss our lives after we return to Earth,” he says, and it’s not at all what I am expecting.

“…Okay. What about them?”

“What do you wish for the future?”

I shrug, not really sure of my answer. “I don’t know. There are a lot of things I wouldn’t mind doing, another five year mission included.” When he’s silent, I press forward. “What do you want?”

“I do not know if I could endure another mission,” he admits honestly, but then his voice turns wry, “Especially considering your aptitude for attracting danger. After my earlier admission I must confess I do not wish to see you put in peril any longer. I desire as much time with you as possible, and I wish for a career that will not take that away from me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I say easily. “Spock, you weren’t really worried that I’d go on another mission and leave you behind if you chose to stay on Earth or Vulcan, were you?”

“The thought crossed my mind.”

I exhale in exasperation, and he raises his head from my shoulder to look at me. “You are a silly, silly Vulcan. How could I ever leave your side?”

He doesn’t answer, and I look at him sternly. “I’m serious, Spock. If you want to be Earth-side then that’s what we’ll do. As much as I love exploring unchartered space, discovering new life forms and new civilizations, I love you more.”

He opens his mouth respond when our vid com beeps from the desk. We both climb out of bed to answer it. When we see Admiral Pike staring back at us, I smile delightedly. “Chris! It’s great to hear from you.”

“Indeed, Admiral, it is pleasurably to see you again,” Spock adds, and Pike beams at us both.

“Yes, you both as well, but I didn’t call just to chat. I have great news for you: you’re both being promoted!”

“Promoted,” I gape, looking back and forth between Spock and Chris. “What do you mean?” Spock looks just as astounded as I feel.

“I mean,” Chris starts excitedly, “that if you accept, you’ll be made a captain, Jim. And not just any captain, captain of the Enterprise for her next five year mission. Spock, you’ll be an Admiral, the one to oversee the Enterprise’s voyages, inspections, and debrief her for her new missions. In your spare time, you’ll be asked to program and evaluate the Kobiyashi Maru test. Isn’t this great?”

I rub the back of my neck. “Look, Chris, this _is_ great and all, but we’ll need some time to talk it over. We’re not sure what we’ll be doing once we dock.”

“Gentlemen, this is a great opportunity for you both. Don’t let it slip out of your hands,” he warns, and cuts the transmission.

I turn to Spock, but he just looks at me passively. “Well that was unexpected,” I tell him, and ne nods. “What do you think?”

“I think it is a large step forward in your career and will bring you much success,” he responds flatly, and I look at him in bafflement.

“I’m not talking about me! I’m talking about you! I don’t want to be a captain, Spock. I’m a science officer; there’s a reason I didn’t go down the command track. Plus we just established that I’m not galloping about the cosmos without you, and you don’t want to anymore, so that’s that. Anyways, do you want to be an admiral?”

“It would be agreeable. The tasks he outlined would suit me,” he relents, and I smile.

“Great! I can find a job at the academy or something; I’m sure they’ll need a lab technician. The only thing is, we’ll have to leave behind our cabin,” I say sadly. “We’ll have to relocate to San Francisco.”

“We can still vacation in Riverside,” he points out.

I wrap my arms around him and kiss him decisively. “Then it’s settled.” I reconsider, and amend my statement instead. “Actually, there is something else I want to talk to you about…”

“What is it, Jim?”

“When I was on Berefi,” I start hesitantly, “I thought I’d never see you again. And it made me realize, again, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But not just with you—I want us to have a family. Maybe a kid, you know?”

“You wish to become parents?” He asks incredulously, his eyebrows rising into his hairline.

“When we’re ready for one, I think it’s something that I want, yeah.”

He looks so shocked that I want to laugh, but I can’t because I’m anxiously awaiting his answer. After a long moment of thoughtful silence, he peers at me curiously, “Are you certain about this?”

“One hundred percent,” I reply immediately, and he studies my face for a moment longer.

“Then I am not adverse to the idea.” He smiles slightly as I lean forward to kiss him again.

“I’m happy,” I say fondly, and I don’t just mean about the child. I feel him echo my sentiment through the bond tying us together indefinitely.

 

“You’re turning it down?” Chris gapes, looking at me as I stand before him in his office.

I nod solemnly. “I want to build a life more than I want to build a name for myself.”

He sighs and leans back in his chair dejectedly. “If this is what you think is best…”

“It is,” I say confidently. “Admiral Spock agrees with me full-heartedly,” I add for emphasis.

“I just don’t want you making a hasty decision because you think it’s what your husband wants,” Chris explains.

“Isn’t deciding these kinds of things together part of a relationship? It wouldn’t be fair to him if I made the choice myself. Besides, it’s not what I want.”

“Okay, Jim. The whole crew of the Enterprise is receiving a commendation for such a successful initial five year mission, as well as to honor the lives that we lost along the way. There’ll be a ceremony sometime in the future.”

“I look forward to attending.”

“Also, you’re in luck: a position for a chemistry professor just opened up at the Academy, and you’re more than qualified. I’ve emailed all of the details to your PADD. If you want the job, you’ll start two weeks from Monday.”

“Thank you, sir. I have a feeling it will be perfect for me.”

“I hope so, Jim. I hope so.”

 

We just finished moving into our new apartment, and while it isn’t as homey as our cabin, it is certainly more spacious than our old quarters aboard the Enterprise. A few members of the crew come over for a glass of wine, and we all discuss what our plans are for the next couple of years. Pavel and Hikaru are being reassigned to a science vessel, and Hikaru was offered the promotion of captain as well as I was. Pavel’s going to be his first officer so that they can be together. I’m happy for them, and I hope it all works out for the best although I will miss them terribly. Scotty and Nyota are staying aboard the Enterprise, which means we’ll still be in contact due to Spock overseeing the ship from Earth. Bones was hired at a hospital in San Francisco, and boy, was he happy to get off of that starship. I have a feeling the only reason he applied on the Enterprise for the five year mission was so he could look after me. No doubt he’s sticking close in order to do so now. Carol is also teaching at the Academy alongside me, but being the overachiever she is, she’s teaching two courses: Bio-Life Research and Advanced Weaponry. I’m relieved that we’ll be seeing so much of each other; I owe Bones and Carol my life a thousand times over and I wouldn’t survive without their friendship.

 

 

Spock’s adjusting to his new title as admiral remarkably. He’s perfect for the job: responsible, good at making decisions, scary enough to intimidate insubordinates, etc. I start teaching, I get to know quite a few of my pupils pretty well, and I enjoy the job; some of my students are full of potential. We get used to our new, quiet life. It’s nice, coming home from lectures and being able to lounge on the couch until Spock gets home. We lie out on the beach and watch the stars. We relax together, cuddle together, make love, and do whatever we want. We can go out to eat whenever we want. We go see a couple of old movies at a refurbished movie theater. Bones and Carol come over a few times a week for dinner. We play chess as much as we used to aboard the Enterprise. Everything is perfect, and everything is quiet. Sometimes I find myself getting restless, wanting to do something while Spock is at work or when I have free time without him. I think Spock feels it too, which is why I’m not completely taken off guard when he brings up the subject of adopting a child. I’ve thought about just asking my parents for custody of Peter, but I know that’s not fair to them, and I think the best thing for Spock and I is to start fresh.

“Jim, I have located a suitable orphanage a few minutes travel from here. If you have no objections, I would like to visit this place.”

“So soon?” I ask. “Are you sure?”

“Indeed. I believe we are ready, and I wish to do this before it is too late.”

“Well…I’m free now. Do you want to go?” He nods, and we get into our private shuttle and make the journey to the small orphanage a few streets down.

We walk in and the dean of the house greets us at the door. She says a lot of things about the adoption process, and about adjustment, but I’m more focused on the multiple children scuttling about the house. I trust Spock will fill me in on the essentials later. I spy a few small boys and a girl or two chasing each other, throwing pillows and stuffed animals around the room. I think the dean apologizes for their behavior, but I can tell Spock is just as amused as I am. We pass an open door on the way to her office, but upon seeing the small child in the room, I freeze. Spock and the dean continue down the hall, oblivious to my sudden departure. The boy’s appearance floors me completely. Shaggy brown hair sits atop a small head, and when he senses my presence he looks up, light blue eyes looking at me questioningly. In his hand he holds a small bear, its arm detached from the rest of its body. I walk over to him slowly, not wanting to startle him, and kneel down in front of him.

“Hey, there,” I say softly. “What happened?”

The little boy sniffles, and I don’t think he can be older than about six. “Julia broke him,” he whispers and holds out the bear for me to inspect. I take it gently in my hands and turn it over, and I’m happy to see that a new seam should fix the toy right up.

“Why would Julia do this?”

“She doesn’t like me. None of the other kids do. They think I’m odd.”

“I can fix this,” I tell him, and his eyes light up excitedly. My heart twists, because his resemblance to Gary is unnerving, but I brutally shove down my sadness and focus on the boy. “I can take this home and bring it back to you tomorrow,” I offer.

“You don’t have to, mister,” the boy replies, but I can tell he’s hopeful.

I shrug like it’s no big deal. “It won’t be a problem. I can fix it in no time at all.”

“Really?” He whispers, and I nod seriously.

“Oh yeah, trust me. He’ll be good as new.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, and I give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m Jim,” I say, and stick out my hand. “What’s your name?”

He shakes my hand lightly. “Grant.”

“Well, Grant, I have to go find my husband, but I promise I’ll be back tomorrow to return this little guy to you.”

He nods and I exit his room, the bear tucked safely in my right hand. I find Spock and the dean in her office, entering just as she says, “—if you want to meet the children, I can give you a tour…”

“Actually,” I cut in, and Spock turns to look at me. “I was wondering about Grant.”

“Ah, yes,” she sighs. “He’s been here longer than all of the others. His parents died when he was very young, and he had no other relatives that could take him in. He doesn’t fit in well with the kids here; he’s very quiet and reserved.”

I hold up the bear in my hands. “He said a girl named Julia broke this.”

She rubs her forehead awkwardly. “Julia is constantly antagonizing that poor boy. No matter what we do, we can’t get her to stop harassing him.”

“Shouldn’t something else be done? I mean, the kid didn’t seem very happy.”

She shrugs. “We’ve tried.”

Irritated with the flippant tone she used, I turn to Spock. “I’d like you to meet him.”

Spock nods, and I feel him riffle through my brief encounter with Grant through the bond. I lead him down the hall towards the boy’s room, and I’m glad the dean doesn’t follow us. Grant looks up as we enter, and he smiles at me a little before taking in Spock with wide eyes. “Grant, this is my husband, Spock. Spock, this is Grant, the little guy I was telling you about.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Grant says softly, and Spock inclines his head.

“It is pleasurable to meet you as well,” he responds.

The three of us talk for a long time, just to get to know the little boy. We tell him about a few of our child-friendly adventures, and he tells jokes that having me laughing until my sides hurt. I like his charisma, and I know he’s brilliant by the way he speaks. He loves chess, even at such a young age. I see part of myself in him the more he talks. We ask him how he likes the orphanage, and he says that it’s okay since it’s the only home he’s ever had, but that sometimes it gets lonely. When he says that, Spock and I look at each other, and I know he’s the one. When Grant yawns, signaling that he’s tired, we depart with promises to return tomorrow. Spock and I don’t even discuss it; we head right back to the dean’s office and inform her that we’re adopting Grant. She does a background check, we sign all of the paperwork and pay the fees, and while he can’t actually live with us until next week, he’ll be legally our child after we ask him about it tomorrow.

As Spock and I lay in bed that night, no words are spoken aloud between us. We’re both nervous and anxious and apprehensive about taking on this huge responsibility, but I also know we’re both positive this is the right thing to do. I’m excited, and I hope Grant will be too. This will be a good experience for me, because maybe I’ll finally be able to prove to myself that I can do something right. I can take care of someone else. Spock senses my thoughts and holds me tighter, murmuring reassurances and love in my head.

The next day we return to visit Grant, his newly restored bear wrapped with a bow. When we ask him if he wants to live with us, he cries, throwing an arm around each of us and sniffling ‘yes’ into our shoulders. We make all of the arrangements in the apartment. We buy all of the necessary things like toys and clothes and a bed, anything and everything that he’ll need. I text Bones to ask him if he wants to grab a drink, and once we’re settled in a deserted bar with a bottle of bourbon, I tell him the great news.

“That’s awesome, Jim, I mean it. You and the hobgoblin will be great fathers.”

“I hope so,” I say, taking a small sip of my drink. “I haven’t told my parents yet.”

“They’ll be happy for you too, kid,” he says, and claps me on the back.

I nudge him with my elbow in response, “I don’t think you can call me kid anymore considering I’m about to have a kid of my own.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me, kid,” he says gruffly, and it makes me laugh.

“Jocelyn’s giving me custody of Joanna,” Bones murmurs, and I choke on my drink.

“We can totally have playdates!” I say a little too loudly, and the bartender smirks in our direction. I hug Bones tightly. “That’s awesome, man. I’m so happy for you and Carol.”

“Me too, kid. Me too. We’ve finally made something out of ourselves, eh?”

“Yes, we have.”

 

When we take finally Grant home, the first thing he does in scoop up I-Chera in his arms and kiss her head. She purrs and snuggles his face, and I have to admit that tears prick the corners of my eyes. Uncle Bones and Aunty Carol laugh from their place on the couch. The moment is so perfect: my t’hy’la, our new son, our loving furry companion, and our best friends in our new life. Everything is different; I’m different. I’ve had some rough times, we’ve had our troubles, but because of these people, I’m a different man than I was five years ago when I first stepped onto the Enterprise. I should have known then that she’d always bring me home in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'c it's over. I can't thank you all enough. I love each and every one of you.  
> xoxoxo


End file.
